the best story ever
by ICHIGO KOURASAKI
Summary: read to find out


Curious faces stared as she walked into the classroom.

She paid them no mind when she stopped and stood in front of the chalkboard.

"Alright class," Ochi-sensei, her homeroom teacher, announced next to her. "Say hello to your new classmate. Please introduce yourself, Kuchiki-san."

The petite dark-haired girl pasted a sweet smile on her face as she overlooked the class.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Kuchiki Rukia. Pleased to meet all of you."

There was a buzz of excitement after she spoke.

Transfer students were unusual during this time of year, and in an unknown town like Karakura, it was even more unusual to get transfer students.

"Please find an empty seat, Kuchiki-san," Ochi-sensei instructed.

Rukia nodded politely before surveying the room.

She spotted two empty seats in the far back.

She preferred sitting in the front, but beggars can't be choosers, as the saying goes.

As she made her way to the back, she met several friendly smiles.

It looks like I made a good choice in coming to this town.

Just as she was about to sit in one of the empty seats, a student next to her caught her attention.

"Y-you probably don't want to sit in that seat, K-Kuchiki-san," the rather small dark-haired boy stuttered nervously.

Rukia gazed at him for a moment and then back at the desk inquiringly. She wasn't about to get prissy about seats, so she only smiled slightly and sat in the other empty one.

The boy looked at her with a small blush.

"M-my name is Yamada Hanatarō. It's n-nice to meet you, Kuchiki-san."

"It's nice to meet you, too, Yamada-san."

His blush spread to his ears, and he ducked his head.

They turned their attention back to Ochi-sensei.

The seat next to Rukia remained empty for the rest of the class period.

"K-Kuchiki-san, w-would you like t-to eat lunch w-with m-me?"

Rukia smiled and nodded at her newfound friend.

He was small, although taller than her, and sweetly shy.

"Please, just call me Rukia."

He blushed.

She gathered her school materials and placed them in her brown leather schoolbag before taking out her lunchbox.

As they walked through the hallway to find a good lunch spot, Rukia attempted to make conversation with the shy boy.

She wasn't very good at it to begin with, so she talked about the first thing that came up in her mind.

"What was wrong with the desk earlier?"

"O-oh…" Hanatarō faltered, looking even more nervous than usual. He glanced around uneasily. "Th-that was Shirosaki-san's desk."

"Shirosaki?"

"You should stay away from Shirosaki," a new voice announced.

Rukia and Hanatarō looked up to see a girl with short spiky black hair and several other students approaching them. She recognized a few who had given her the friendly smiles.

"I'm Arisawa Tatsuki," the one who had spoken earlier introduced herself. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm Inoue Orihime!" an auburn-haired girl with an impressive bosom piped up. "I hope we get along well, Kuchiki-san."

"Honshō Chizuru," a short-haired red-head said. "Nice to meet you."

"Ogawa Michiru. Welcome to Karakura high."

"Natsui Mahana."

"Kunieda Ryō."

"It's nice to meet you all," Rukia replied after the introductions.

"Anyways, like I was saying, you should avoid Shirosaki," Arisawa continued.

"That guy is bad news," Honshō said in a low voice. "He's involved in one of the two most dangerous gangs around here."

Natsui nodded empathically. "He deals drugs and beats people up for the fun of it."

"I heard he beat up a teacher in his last school," Ogawa put in a little timidly.

"Yeah, and I heard that he went to jail a couple times."

"He sent some students to the hospital, too. I heard one of them was almost killed."

Rukia listened with mild curiosity.

She wasn't at all interested in the thug they described, but it would be impolite to seem disinterested, so she pretended to be attentive as the girls gossiped about wild stories involving this "Shirosaki" person.

When they finished, Rukia decided she may as well play along with them.

"So what does he look like?"

The girls all looked at each other cagily.

"You'll know when you see him."

Rukia cocked her head slightly at their nervous glances at each other.

"Anyways, do you mind us eating lunch with you?" Arisawa who, like Inoue and Kunieda, seemed unaffected by the rumors, asked.

Rukia shook her head.

"That's great!" Inoue clapped her hands together happily. "I tried a new recipe last night with instant ramen, sour gummy worms, vanilla pudding, and wasabi, and it was so delicious, I decided to share some with everyone today!"

Arisawa rolled her eyes. "Sheesh, Orihime, how can you eat that?"

Rukia still kept her smile in place even while she was wondering the same thing. She certainly wasn't inclined to try something like that.

The others seemed used to the cheerful girl's odd taste, though.

"U-um, Kuchi—I mean, R-Rukia-san."

Rukia turned to see Hanatarō looking at her timidly. She had almost forgotten he was behind her.

"I-if you would like, I can eat lunch somewhere else…"

She looked at his anxious droopy-eyed expression with surprise before she smiled gently. Hanatarō made her feel an odd sort of older sister protectiveness.

"Come eat with all of us; I don't mind."

He instantly beamed and followed the group of girls to the rooftop.

Today had been a good day.

Rukia was pleased with her first day of class.

Everything had gone by quite pleasantly, and she had already made several friends.

It certainly had been a giant step forward compared to when she had been at her old school. There, her typical introverted personality had caused her to be isolated and friendless. Here, she had the chance of becoming a new person.

It was amazing what a small occasional smile could do. People flocked to her instantly.

She was actually looking forward to going to school tomorrow for the first time in her life.

Although school had been over for hours, Rukia had aimlessly wandered the town, familiarizing herself with the route from school to her apartment and in-between.

She decided she liked the town a lot.

Here, she could start a comfortable, peaceful new life.

She was absently admiring the full moon and thinking of how she would finish unpacking the rest of her belongings when a sudden noise alerted her to the alley on her right.

Without warning, something soared out of the dark alleyway and landed with a loud thunk not too far from where she had paused.

Rukia was instantly alert as she peered cautiously at the large object that had flown out of the alley. Her eyes widened in alarm when she recognized the object in the dim moonlight.

It was a body.

She was just about to decide whether check if the person was alive or call the police when raucous laughter echoed behind her, ricocheting eerily against the walls of the alley.

Rukia whipped around and froze at the utterly shocking sight that greeted her.

What had emerged from the cloying darkness of the alley was a creature she had never before seen in her life.

White.

Everywhere.

Its skin, hair, clothes, and even the gleaming teeth of its ear-splitting grin.

Its eyes were the most unnerving of its appearance.

Pure molten gold, seeming glow with an unnatural inner light like a cat's in the darkness.

The only thing that marred the white being was the dark splotches sprinkled on its white zip-up hoodie and pants.

Even in the faintly lit street, she recognized it as blood.

Rukia had never really felt pure terror before in her life, but the chilling sensation running through her spine made her think otherwise.

The creature caught sight of her near the body.

If possible, its disconcerting grin widened.

"Lookie what we have here," it cooed in a disturbingly sing-song voice. "A lost little bunny!"

Rukia could only watch, frozen in a sick sort of horror, as it approached ya kill him?"

Rukia snapped out of her frozen state and looked towards the alleyway where the new voice had sounded.

From the darkness, three figures emerged behind the white being.

"Naw, but I found somethin' more interesting," the white being sneered at her and she just suppressed a shudder of revulsion.

As the shock slowly ebbed, Rukia realized the white being was actually human rather than the pale ethereal creature she had first thought him to be.

It was then that she noticed four pairs of eyes on her.

"Who the hell is she?" an astonishingly tall lanky man with long black hair said.

He was wearing a white hoodie like the white…person but with faded blue jeans tucked into scruffy black combat boots. A thick silver chain hung at his left hip. He narrowed his slanted eye at her as if she were a pest who had happened to step in front of his path.

Rukia managed not to gape at him. He was at least a good seven feet tall!

And was he really wearing an eye patch?

"Dunno," the white being—person shrugged while he leered at her.

"Ain't it past yer bedtime, little girl?" a tall blue-haired man growled.

Like the others, he wore a white hoodie, although the sleeves were rolled up his muscular forearms and it was unzipped, revealing a black wife beater underneath. One of the pant legs of his black sweatpants was rolled up to mid-calf while the other fell over his blue and white sneakers.

"Don't scare her, Grimmjow," the fourth man with wavy, shoulder-length dark brown hair drawled.

Rukia had begun to wonder if white hoodies were now in fashion except that this man wore a white jacket lined with gray-colored fur around the hood and sleeves. He stood with his hands stuck casually in the pockets of his blue jeans, which were tucked into a pair of brown cowboy boots.

The blue-haired one called Grimmjow glowered at him. "Shut it, Starrk."

Starrk just met his scowl with a bored expression.

Rukia, now calm enough to assess her situation, figured staying perfectly still might not draw any more unwanted attention to herself.

However, that plan had been instantly trashed since a malicious golden gaze had been locked on her the moment he'd sighted her.

The complete whiteness of his garb and natural coloring made him stand out starkly in the moonlit darkness. She tried not to look at the bloodstains on his hoodie, but the unpleasant sight drew her eyes like magnets.

His head suddenly cocked in a very disturbing way, like a predator eyeing its prey.

"That's the uniform fer Karakura high," he observed. "Never seen ya 'round before."

"Wait – that's not an elementary kid?" Grimmjow spoke up almost incredulously.

"Looks like a kid ta me, Shirosaki," the gangly giant said.

Rukia felt a spark of irritation. She might be short, but she was definitely not going to take their insults quietly.

Wait.

Did he just say 'Shirosaki'?

Where had she heard that name before?

"Ya think I'm blind, Nnoitra? Why'd she be wearin' my school's uniform if she were a kid?"

It slowly dawned on Rukia that this must be the Shirosaki the girls had warned her to avoid at all costs.

Now she knew why they'd told her she'd recognize him when she saw him.

Well, they had been right about him being a delinquent, and even though she wasn't one to believe in rumors, she was tempted to believe at least some of them were true.

And besides, even if the rumors weren't true, she could tell that he was dangerous. And the other three as well, she thought silently to herself while warily keeping all four males in her line of sight.

"Are ya just gonna stand there, bunny?"

Rukia was startled out of her musings when Shirosaki addressed her.

Did he just call her 'bunny'?

"Kuchiki Rukia."

Hichigo looked at her curiously.

"My name is Kuchiki Rukia, not 'bunny'," she repeated.

Surprised at her nerve to talk back to him, he grinned and carefully studied the girl before him.

She was tiny.

From her small face to her breasts to her tiny feet.

Everything about her was all delicateness and fragility, like she would break if he even slapped her around a little.

Hm, but she did have great legs for someone her height. Long and slim, just how he liked them.

The only big thing about her was her eyes. In the night, they looked like wide black pools.

She reminded him of a porcelain China doll.

It wasn't often that Hichigo met real live China dolls in the middle of the street at night.

He decided to play with her.

"If ya don't like 'bunny', then how 'bout 'doll'?"

If her glare could freeze him, he'd be a Popsicle by now.

"Don't make me repeat myself," she said coldly.

His grin widened.

Well, well. Looks like he found himself a feisty doll.

"I heard ya the first time, doll," he responded playfully.

Her glare hardened.

"Are ya finished flirting yet, whitey?" Grimmjow interrupted. "I ain't got all night, ya know."

Hichigo smirked at the grouchy blue-head.

"We got places ta be," Nnoitra reminded him.

Oh, right.

His companions turned and melted back into the alley.

Hichigo gave one last glance at the girl and grinned.

"See ya at school, doll."

Once they had disappeared as mysteriously as they'd come, Rukia finally relaxed her tensed muscles.

She had known instantly that all four were probably in the same gang when she saw the identical skull-shaped emblems on their backs as they retreated.

She only hoped that Shirosaki wouldn't remember her, but it was doubtful.

And here she had been looking forward to tomorrow.

A small groan to her left made her jump.

She suddenly remembered the body near her and cautiously peered at it.

It was a thug, from the looks of it.

Beaten to a bloody pulp.

Well, even if he was a thug, she wasn't about to leave him lying in the streets.

Rukia pulled her cellphone from her pocket and flipped it open before dialing for an ambulance.

Hichigo pulled his hood over his head when he reached the edge of Karakura Town. Grimmjow, Nnoitra, and Starrk did the same.

They had reached the ghetto of Karakura.

It was known as Hueco Mundo where the lowest of the low lived.

Drug addicts, criminals, yakuza, gangsters, and all the good stuff like that.

The cops avoided the area like the plague.

The four strode through the dirty streets, confident and dangerous.

No one attempted to pick a fight with them.

Their white hoodies with the Hollow's skull emblem on the back signaled which gang they were affiliated with, and no one ever dared to rough up anyone with a white hoodie in this part of the town.

Well, except for those who were stupid enough to try like that wimp who had attempted to ambush them with a hidden knife earlier.

Hichigo had made sure the cock-sucking pussy had gotten a taste of his own knife. Too bad Starrk had stopped him from finishing the worthless flea off.

Thinking of that, Hichigo smiled when he remembered the defiant little China doll with those huge dark eyes.

He was definitely going to have some fun with her later.

Some minutes later, they finally reached their destination: Las Noches, the headquarters of the most vicious and brutal gang known as the Hollows.

They passed through the open iron gates, ignoring the guards with their steel baseball bats and rods.

The pure white building looked ridiculously large and new compared to the old crumbling buildings found throughout Hueco Mundo.

Then again, their boss had a thing for flaunting his power and money. Why the boss decided to live in such a shithole of a town, Hichigo didn't know, and he didn't give a damn either as long as he could have his fun.

They entered the building and stopped just inside the door so the two door guards could search them for weapons.

Their boss was fucking paranoid as hell to boot. Anyone who came through the door was subject to be searched.

Hichigo leered at the guard who took his beloved custom-made black Bowie knife he'd lovingly named Zangetsu.

Grimmjow had a similar knife, but with a cobalt colored handle and a crouching panther etched into the blade. The guard found it hidden at the small of Grimmjow's back.

Nnoitra looked vaguely annoyed when his set of thin razor-sharp throwing knives was removed. He always complained about having to strap them back into place every time he left Las Noches.

Starrk appeared bored as usual as his two old-fashioned western-style revolvers were taken and locked in the safe with the other weapons.

Just as Nnoitra and Stark walked over to them, the front doors opened once again.

"Huh, well look what the cat dragged in," Grimmjow sneered when he saw who had entered.

The pale stoic man who walked through ignored his jeering while the huge dark-skinned one behind him looked at Grimmjow like he was an irritable insect.

Hichigo snorted. Grimmjow hated Ulquiorra with a passion. Hichigo didn't particularly care for the expressionless punk, either, but it passed the time to tease him.

"Yo, Ulquiorra, did ya like my present?"

Insipid green eyes turned to regard him dispassionately.

"If trash like you refrains from such childish acts, Las Noches would be spared from cleaning up after your filth."

Hichigo cackled at the dismissive response.

God, it was always entertaining to mess with that punk.

Hichigo and the others left for the boss's room upstairs while Ulquiorra and Yammy were searched and relieved of their weapons.

"Why the hell do we hafta go ta these fuckin' boring ass meetings?" Nnoitra complained as they strode up the stairs.

"Boss's orders," Starrk answered with a lazy yawn.

"Fuck that," Nnoitra groused tetchily.

They reached the fourth floor and headed down the white hallways. Hichigo recognized the pink hair of Szayel standing outside the door of the boss's meeting room.

Szayel snapped his cellphone shut and looked over at them as they approached.

As always, the pink-haired priss looked at them disdainfully.

"Dissect any people today, pinky?" Hichigo sneered.

The self-proclaimed 'scientist' looked down his nose at Hichigo like he was a repulsive insect.

Hichigo couldn't help but mock the pink-haired psycho every time he saw him. Who the hell dyed their hair pink anyways?

And yeah, Hichigo himself could be considered a psycho, but he'd bet Zangetsu that the sick little fuck had gleefully captured and dissected little animals for fun when he was a kid. He sure as hell hadn't changed since then; only now, he'd upgraded from animals to people.

"Would you like to see your insides, Cero?" Szayel sneered back, referring to Hichigo's rank among the Hollows as he pushed up his rectangular-framed glasses and eyed him prospectively.

Hichigo chortled and returned the look. "Personally, I'd rather gut ya myself."

Before Szayel could form a retort, a sly, amused voice interrupted them.

"Now, now, kiddies, ya don't wanna be late fer the meetin', now would ya?"

They all turned to see the speaker approaching them with a wide, close-lipped smile splitting his face. The whiteness of the hallway and his sleek gray Armani suit made his silver-white hair stand out blatantly against his pale, narrow features.

"Ichimaru Gin," Szayel acknowledged, albeit with a smidge of disdain.

"Don't wanna keep the boss waitin'," Ichimaru said teasingly. "Shall we enter?"

They filed into the room. Szayel proceeded to ignore Hichigo as if he wasn't worth his time. Not like Hichigo cared.

He turned his attention to the boss.

Aizen Sosuke, the biggest and baddest boss of them all.

Sorry to end it there, folks! There wasn't much interaction between Rukia and Hichigo...yet but there shall be more in the future!

And, yes, Rukia seems to be doing a lot of thinking in this chapter even in the situation she found herself in, but I find Rukia to be portrayed as a character who calmly assesses her situation before acting.G-good morning, Rukia-san."

Rukia glanced behind her to see Hanatarō fiddling nervously with the hem of his white uniform shirt and peering at her from his bowed head.

"Good morning, Hanatarō," she replied with a smile.

His cheeks turned pink and he smiled hesitantly back at her.

It certainly was nice to be greeted in the morning. It was a refreshing change from the oppressive silence that had haunted her for the past seventeen years.

Rukia quickly wiped the old memories from her mind and concentrated on the present.

"Shall we go to class?" she invited Hanatarō, who nodded with a shy smile.

They walked to class together in comfortable silence.

There weren't many students in the hallway. A few students here and there.

Rukia noticed a few glances her way but took no mind of it. After all, she was a new student and they were bound to be curious, she supposed.

When they reached the bustling classroom, Rukia immediately noticed that Shirosaki's seat was empty.

Her relief with his absence was short-lived, however, when a low, silky voice sounded behind her.

"Heya, doll."

Rukia froze.

It couldn't be…

She slowly turned her head as one would in a horror movie and craned her neck to look up into a pair of sneering gold eyes.

Shirosaki had arrived.

He stood behind her arrogantly with his schoolbag thrown over one shoulder and his other hand tucked into the pocket of the drab gray school pants. The white shirt of his school uniform was untucked in a casual manner and unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a simple silver chain necklace. A silver watch adorned his left wrist, and a wide smirk adorned his face. The uniform combined with his paper-white skin made him seem almost colorless.

It was then that Rukia noticed the entire classroom had gone completely silent.

"Ya gonna move?"

Rukia jumped slightly when his voice penetrated the silence.

She realized she was blocking the entrance and quickly moved to the side. Hanatarō stared at Shirosaki with wide, terrified eyes before quickly lowering his head back to the floor. His face was nearly as pale as Shirosaki's.

Shirosaki, on the other hand, was completely composed as he strode into the classroom. All eyes followed his confident progress to the back of the room where he plopped down into his desk, crossed his arms behind his head, closed his eyes, and proceeded to ignore everyone.

Rukia couldn't help but stare at his still form like everyone else.

He had just ignored her?

Well, that was…unexpected.

After another minute of silence, conversation slowly started once more.

Hanatarō glanced at her from the corner of his eye and hesitantly took a step forward. Rukia followed him to the back of the classroom where Shirosaki was.

She sat in her desk next to him with Hanatarō on the other side and took out her school materials. She looked at Hanatarō briefly, worried about his sudden change. His face was still that sickly pale color and he refused to look anywhere but the surface of his desk.

Apparently, Shirosaki wasn't interested in them because he hadn't even moved an inch since they sat down. Rukia supposed she may as well move on to more important matters, like class. Due to her friendless state her old school, studies had been her only friend. It had kept her occupied and, as a result, consistently at the top of her class.

Ochi-sensei arrived several minutes before the final bell rang and began the day's lecture.

Rukia soon forgot about Shirosaki and her old school as she concentrated on taking notes for the rest of the class period.

Nothing, not even an enigmatic delinquent, was going to disturb the new, peaceful life she was determined to have.

By the time lunchtime rolled by, Rukia's hand was aching but she was well-satisfied with her accomplishment in note-taking.

She had gathered her materials and had been about to put them away when Shirosaki casually stood up and left.

It wasn't until he had exited the classroom that she realized he hadn't written a single note or even taken out a pencil.

Why he bothered even coming to school, she didn't know and didn't particularly care.

Putting him from her mind, she accepted Inoue's invite to lunch on the rooftop with Hanatarō timidly tagging along.

They settled into a semicircle on the school roof near the railings with their lunchboxes in front of them.

Rukia had managed to remember all of their names. Inoue Orihime was the auburn-haired buxom girl with a cheerful personality, Arisawa Tatsuki was the short-haired girl with the tough personality and a protectiveness towards Inoue, Honshō Chizuru was…well, an odd lesbian with short red hair and glasses who liked to grope Inoue several times a day, Kunieda Ryō was an intelligent student with long, shiny black hair and often had a book in front of her face, Natsui Mahana had short wavy brown hair, which Rukia had noticed looked similar to a rather large and quiet student by the name of Sado Yasutora, with a penchant for asking the most questions, and Ogawa Michiru was the shyest of the group with short brown hair and a member of the crafts club.

In all, the group was a bit unusual but Rukia found that she liked them. The differences in their personalities gave them an entertaining atmosphere.

"So where are you from, Kuchiki-san?" Inoue asked curiously.

"Kyoto," Rukia answered.

"What made you come all the way out here?" Natsui questioned with a slight frown. "There's not much here except, well, gangs and stuff."

"I just wanted a new start."

"So do you have a boyfriend?"

At Natsui's question, seven pairs of interested eyes stared at her intently. Rukia was faintly amused at their eager expressions.

"No."

And this led to a flurry of questions about her taste in men and experience in relationships. She had never had an interest in dating, but that didn't mean she was completely innocent in that regard. She'd dated here and there, but the dates had always been dull, and she had often found her thoughts wandering away from her date. Of course, she didn't tell them that and gave the answers they wanted to hear instead.

Once the questions ceased to move to another topic, Rukia's attention strayed to her own thoughts. The normalcy of talking with friends on the rooftop during lunch was foreign to her; she'd never had the experience before.

It was sort of…nice.

Was this how it felt to be a normal high school girl?

Her attention shifted to the railings and she absently studied a wispy-looking cloud far off in the distance. The blueness of the sky and the drifting clouds dotting the sky reminded her of a painting.

It had been a long time since she'd been able to study the sky, and it had been a long time since she'd felt so normal.

The pleasantness she was feeling almost made her miss the two white objects moving in her peripheral vision. Looking down between the railings from the roof of the third-floor building, Rukia recognized the white hair of Shirosaki and surprisingly, the bright blue hair of one of the gang members from last night. Both were wearing their white hoodies over their school uniforms.

Arisawa must have noticed where her attention was because she shifted to see what Rukia was looking at.

"Oh, Shirosaki and Jaegerjaquez."

Rukia glanced at her briefly before looking back at the two retreating backs heading nonchalantly towards the school entrance.

"They always skip school," Natsui explained while sipping her juice box. "The teachers don't care what they do since they don't want to get caught up in gang matters."

Honshō nodded in agreement while pushing her red-framed glasses up. "Last time a teacher tried to stop them, well, let's just say it wasn't pretty. He ended up in a hospital for a week."

This brought Rukia's curiosity to surface. "And they didn't get into trouble?"

"The Hollows are the most fearsome gang in Karakura Town."

Rukia looked over at Arisawa, who was reclining against the railings with her arms crossed and a grim expression on her face.

"They control most of Karakura and the police force, so the teachers don't want to get too involved."

"How does a single gang have so much power?" Rukia asked, genuinely curious.

"Well," Arisawa looked slightly troubled. "There are rumors that the Hollows aren't just an ordinary gang…"

Rukia had already guessed that much. She waited for Arisawa to go on. The others had gone silent as well.

"I guess since you're here now you'll find out anyways. Gangs weren't a large problem in Karakura until a few years ago. There were small gangs, but relatively harmless. The Hollows started off as a small gang, too, but then there were rumors that they got involved with the yakuza."

At this, Rukia raised a brow.

Noticing her confused expression, Honshō spoke up.

"The yakuza around here aren't really well-known, but the one the Hollows got involved with was rumored to be a big-time yakuza boss who came to Karakura about three years ago. I heard he killed the former boss and took over. After that, well, this is what Karakura is like now – a gang town."

"Most of the Hollows live in Hueco Mundo, but Shirosaki, Jaegerjaquez, and a few others go our school," Natsui added. "Oh, and there are also members of their rival gang that go here, too."

"Rival gang?" Rukia asked. Well, this was just sounding better and better.

Natsui nodded. "Uh huh. They're called the Soul Reapers – the next biggest gang and the biggest rivals to the Hollows. Most of them are upperclassmen, though, so you won't see them around a lot."

"If you don't want to get involved, just avoid them as much as possible. The Soul Reapers usually don't bother you if you're not affiliated with a gang, but the Hollows will mess with anyone," Arisawa warned. "Especially Shirosaki."

They all sat in silence afterwards, the air around them grim. Rukia stared at the school entrance where the two members of the Hollow gang had disappeared. It looked like this town wasn't as peaceful as she'd originally thought.

"Um, Kuchiki-san."

Rukia looked up to see Inoue looking at her with a hesitant smile.

"We don't mean to scare you, but Karakura isn't all bad. There's lots of good things about it, too."

"U-um, sh-she's right!"

Surprisingly, it was Hanatarō who spoke up. He immediately looked embarrassed when everyone looked at him and ducked his head.

"Er, well, I guess Karakura's not all bad," Honshō said and then gave Inoue a sultry look. "There are a lot of nice things to look at and to touch—"

Honshō was abruptly cut off when an irritated Arisawa smacked the back of her head.

"I'm sure you'll like it here, Kuchiki-san," Ogawa said with a small, hesitant smile.

"Yeah, there are some great places to hang out. You should come with us sometime," Natsui said.

"That's a great idea!" Inoue exclaimed and smiled happily.

And just like that, the atmosphere was once again friendly and pleasant.

Rukia knew they were trying to reassure her. Karakura couldn't be all bad if there were such considerate people as these. In all honesty, she hadn't even considered moving out after they told her.

"Thank you. I would like that very much."

Inoue beamed, looking quite relieved that Rukia wasn't about to jump on the train back to Kyoto the next chance she got.

"There was no point in going to school if that bitch Aizen was going to call us out anyways," Grimmjow groused as he kicked an empty beer can into the streets of Hueco Mundo. "What a fucking waste of my time."

Hichigo ignored Grimmjow's irritated mutterings. He didn't care much for that blue-head anyways, or anyone else for that matter.

Several bums in the street scuttled away like cockroaches as soon as they saw the white hoodies approaching. One must have been high on something because he stumbled for a bit, tripped over his own clumsy feet, noisily crashed into some trashcans, and then tried to crawl away.

Hichigo didn't even glance at the scene. It was far too common a sight in Hueco Mundo, and he wasn't interested in anyone who couldn't even put up a decent fight.

As the two Hollows made their way through the dirty streets towards the pristine white building, Hichigo's mind wandered to the meeting with Aizen last night.

"Welcome, Espadas," Aizen greeted the eleven white garbed individuals seated at the long table in the classy meeting room of Las Noches. His pleasant, articulate voice and his immaculate white suit were a stark contrast to the casually dressed individuals – excluding Ichimaru and Aizen's other loyal lackey, Tousen Kaname, who was also dressed in a white suit with dark sunglasses to hide his unseeing eyes.

Hichigo couldn't help a small smirk when he looked at Tousen. Well, now he knew the true meaning of "blindly loyal." That dog Tousen would lick Aizen's foot if Aizen commanded him to.

"As you know, the Hollows have gained significant power over the past three years," Aizen said while he casually stirred a cube of sugar in his cup of tea. "But there has been…an opposition towards our growth."

There was silence as they waited for him to continue. Aizen allowed the dramatic pause to go on for a minute longer before he continued.

"That is why I called all of you, my strongest comrades, here today. Beginning today, we shall prepare for an all-out confrontation against the Soul Reapers."

No one even blinked at the announcement. They had all known it was coming. The Soul Reapers had been steadily gaining power alongside the Hollows for the past three years. It was a wonder that the strained violence between the two gangs hadn't exploded into a massive turf war sooner.

"Huh, 'bout time," Nnoitra muttered.

"Finally gonna get some action," Grimmjow said with a fierce grin.

"How crass," Ulquiorra stated blandly without even glancing at them. Both Nnoitra and Grimmjow glowered at the expressionless punk, who ignored their glares.

"This is going to be a pain," Starrk, who had looked like he'd been half-asleep during the meeting, mumbled to himself.

"It's about time those punks from the Soul Reapers learned a lesson," Baraggan Louisenbairn, the former boss of the Hollows, rumbled from where he sat at the opposite end of the table. Honestly, Hichigo didn't know why this scarred old fart was still here after Aizen took over. He guessed the former boss had nothing better to do.

"There isn't going to be a single flea left after I'm done with them," Yammy smirked while cracking his huge knuckles.

"You had better leave a few alive," Szayel told Yammy in his usual prissy manner. "It isn't easy getting live samples."

"So we're finally settling it, eh?" Aaroniero Arruruerie, a neat-dressed freak that always wore a long plank-like mask, said from where he sat next to Szayel.

The only ones who remained silent were Tier Harribel, the only female within the group, and Hichigo himself, who was watching Aizen narrowly beneath his hood.

With his brown hair slicked back and a pleasant-but-mocking smile in place, Aizen appeared quite pleased by the reactions of the Espada, the most elite group within the Hollows ranked from Cero to Diez. Next to him, Ichimaru maintained his sly, fox-like smile, and Tousen appeared stoic as usual.

"Now, everyone," Aizen said, and there was silence at once. "Please continue to keep going on as normal. I will let you know when we commence. And do not forget, if you are with me, you are invincible."

The meeting lasted for another half hour, but Hichigo paid no attention to it. He absently regarded his black painted nails until the meeting was over.

Chairs scraped back as they all stood and left one by one after Aizen dismissed the Espada. Hichigo stood as well, but paused when Aizen spoke.

"Stay, Hichigo-kun," Aizen murmured as he sipped his tea.

Hichigo pocketed his hands in his worn blue jeans and lounged near the table as the last of the Espada left. Ichimaru and Tousen both stood and headed towards the exit as well.

"See ya, Shiro-kun," Ichimaru waved as he exited.

Tousen ignored him. Hichigo knew the blind dickwad hated his guts. Tousen's twisted ideals of justice probably made him hate everyone but Aizen. Oh, well, not like Hichigo cared.

"Please sit, Hichigo-kun," Aizen instructed.

Hichigo eyed him for a second before dragging a chair out and plopping down in it. A slick smile played on his pale lips.

"What did ya need, boss?"

Aizen finished his tea before setting the porcelain cup back into the small China plate. The sight vaguely reminded Hichigo of the little China doll he'd run into at school today.

"Take your hood off, Hichigo-kun," Aizen said instead of answering his question. "It's quite rude to speak with it on."

Hichigo considered his request for a moment before he casually flicked back the hood with one hand, revealing pure ash-white hair and alabaster skin. Of course, Hichigo didn't forget his satirical smile he always wore.

Aizen surveyed him coolly with that discerning but pleasant expression that never seemed to leave his face. He wasn't certain of the exact reason, but Aizen favored Hichigo over even Ulquiorra, who all the Espadas knew was Aizen's favorite. Hichigo guessed it was because of Aizen's weird obsession with white. Being the albino that he was, Hichigo was probably Aizen's fantasies come true.

Hichigo smirked to himself at that.

"You know why I asked you to stay," Aizen leaned back in his chair with a relaxed aura without taking his eyes from Hichigo.

Hichigo watched Aizen with an unconcerned expression but he inwardly smiled with satisfaction. Heh. Looks like the boss found out.

"It seems you botched your last job."

He didn't miss the slight coldness that seeped into those deceptive brown eyes that could look at you with a fatherly gaze while he casually shoved a knife in your gut. He didn't reply and waited for Aizen to go on.

"This is the third time, Hichigo-Kun. I overlooked it before, but your carelessness must cease."

Despite his mild tone, Hichigo knew Aizen was completely serious. The next time he purposely messed up a job, he might be the one thrown in an alleyway with a knife in his gut.

Hichigo smiled and shrugged indifferently. "Gotcha, boss."

Aizen smiled like a patient father. "Good. I'm glad you understand, Hichigo-kun. I would hate to lose my Cero."

Hichigo knew that was false, but he played along anyways. "Ain't ya got li'l Ulquiorra? I'm sure he'd love ta be yer new Cero."

Aizen chuckled in amusement. "Wrong, Hichigo-kun. No one can replace the Cero Espada."

"How long are ya going to space out?"

Hichigo was jolted out of his thoughts when Grimmjow's impatient inquiry brought him to the present.

He realized they had stopped in front the gates of Las Noches. Shaking himself inwardly and sending Grimmjow a mocking smile, Hichigo entered through the gates of his own personal hell

Hichigo blinked awake and stretched with a wide yawn. He drowsily rolled over to ease the crick in his neck – and tumbled into a heap to the ground.

"Ow! Fuck!" he cursed, attempting to sit up while the thin blanket he'd slept with stubbornly tangled with his legs.

Once he'd managed to kick off the damn blanket, he remembered that he wasn't in his room. Hichigo glanced at the couch he'd fallen off. Oh yeah, he'd crashed on Starrk's lumpy little couch last night after another boring-ass meeting.

Starrk's living room was just as tiny as the rest of his apartment. He had few belongings, and there were no pictures to be found to personalize the apartment. Starrk, ranked as the Primera Espada, was too lazy to properly clean up his place. Hichigo was sure this little trash dump hadn't been cleaned since Starrk had moved in. Oh well, not like he'd complain – much – since the older man let him stay over at his place when Hichigo didn't feel like going home.

Standing, Hichigo picked his way through the valley of trash and liquor bottles towards the bathroom. The carpet was stained with who-knows-what and he doubted Starrk even remembered the original color of the now reddish-brown carpet.

He did his business in the toilet and quickly rinsed his face in the rusted sink. Hichigo ignored the fact that the water had a slightly reddish color and a coppery taste when some seeped through his lips – Starrk didn't live in the nicest part of Hueco Mundo, but who did? – and used his t-shirt to wipe his face since he couldn't find a towel.

A sound from the living room alerted him to someone else's presence. He casually sauntered out once he'd finished brushing his teeth.

"Yo, brat," Hichigo greeted the young girl in the living room.

Lilynette, a light green haired, pink-eyed, annoyingly energetic kid, scowled at him. She always wore a white cap with a red flame design that was tilted to cover her left eye – which Hichigo knew she did purposely to hide the lazy eye she'd been born with. Currently, she was tugging her shoes on with a small backpack already on her back.

"Yo, whitey," she replied back.

Hichigo grinned and ruffled her head. Even though she was only ten, she already had a smart mouth. Growing up in Hueco Mundo with a lazy father like Starrk would probably do that to anyone.

"I'm going to be late for the bus," Lilynette complained while shoving away Hichigo's hand. "Starrk forgot to set the alarm again."

Hichigo snorted. More like Starrk had drank too much liquor at the bars last night to even remember about it. No wonder Lilynette never called him "dad" or anything of the like.

Lilynette finished tying her shoes and went to the door. She slammed the door shut as she left in a hurry to catch the bus.

Hichigo decided he might as well leave, too. Starrk probably would be passed out until noon.

He grabbed his raggedy sports bag he'd pilfered off some guy years ago. It contained a few changes of clothes and other necessities, but other than that, he didn't have much else. He changed into his school uniform in the bathroom, threw on his hoodie, and tucked Zangetsu in the pocket and his wallet in the back pocket of his pants.

He kicked a few beer cans and bottles out of the way as he made his way towards the door while slinging the sports bag over one shoulder. He never bothered to let Starrk know when he was leaving. They weren't exactly what you'd call "friends," but they had a mutual understanding of each other and that suited them fine.

He checked his watch as he walked down the rusting stairs of the cheap, crumbling apartment building. Seven o'clock on the dot. Walking back to Karakura Town from Hueco Mundo would only take about twenty-ish minutes. There was some time to kill before school began.

Hichigo hummed quietly to himself, lost in thought as he strolled down the streets. The musty air of Hueco Mundo gave a mild aftertaste, like stale cigarette smoke, on the back of his tongue. He riffled through his pockets until he found his last pack of mint-flavored gum, popped one into his mouth and absently tossed the wrapper over his shoulder.

His mind was on Aizen at the moment. Obviously, Aizen had some big plans for him, but he hadn't seemed inclined to let Hichigo know yet. He kept leaving him with damned cryptic words and watching Hichigo like he was some fascinating new specimen he'd discovered.

Hichigo was damn sure Aizen would have gotten rid of anyone else without a thought after purposely messing up his last few jobs, and even the other Espada had noticed Aizen's indulgence towards Hichigo.

He only wondered how far he could go before Aizen decided to punish him. He knew he was near the limit since Aizen's last warning to him.

His lips quirked. Well now, that did sound interesting. It could spice up his shitty life a bit.

Yeah, so he liked pain on the occasion. What of it?

His humming became more cheerful as he reached Karakura. He had another job with Nnoitra tonight. Something about smuggling more firearms into Las Noches in preparation for the upcoming showdown with the Soul Reapers. Basically all he'd have to do was sit on his ass and make sure the cops didn't catch them. But wouldn't it be more fun if the cops caught them?

Hichigo blew a medium-sized bubble, letting it pop before resuming his chewing once more. Alrightie, sounds like tonight would be a fun night.

He couldn't wait.

Shirosaki entered the classroom five minutes late with an odd smile on his face, as if he was thinking of something amusing, but Rukia had quickly dismissed him.

Ochi-sensei, probably one of the bravest and carefree teachers here, had reprimanded him for being late in a casual manner and went straight back to the lecture. He'd only smiled in response.

Currently, he was reclining in his desk with earphones in and didn't appear to be paying any attention to the lecture.

Rukia wouldn't have been paying any attention to him either, but he had his music turned up enough that it was distracting her. From the sounds of it, it was some type of screamo music, which she disliked immensely because she couldn't understand any of the lyrics and it just sounded like someone was, well, screaming.

And that wasn't all.

He was chewing gum.

Pop!

And blowing bubbles.

Pop!

Continuously.

Pop!

Rukia felt a vein throbbing in her forehead. She hadn't had a good night's rest last night. It had been one of those nights that she'd been completely exhausted but couldn't manage to fall asleep for hours, so she'd woken in a cranky mood and Shirosaki wasn't helping in the least.

Pop!

She gritted her teeth. Calm, Rukia, calm. He isn't doing on purpose to annoy you. It isn't his fault that I couldn't get any sleep last night.

Pop!

Okay, maybe he was doing it unconsciously. Did he not know there was a test coming up next week?

Rukia stared blankly at her notes. She hadn't written down anything for the last five minutes due to a persisting distraction to her left. Just ignore him.

Another five minutes later, she had written down exactly two words.

Pop!

Relax. Rukia told herself sternly. It would be crass to shove her fist in his mouth and throw the gum into the furthest corners of the earth. He paused in his bubble-blowing for a minute to change the music on his MP3 before tucking it back in his pants pocket. But if he did that one more time—

Pop!

That.

Was.

It.

Summoning all of her calm, Rukia pasted a sugary sweet smile on her face and turned to face Shirosaki.

"Shirosaki-san," she murmured as quietly and unobtrusively as possible.

He didn't react. She assumed he hadn't heard her due to the noise called 'music' clogging his earholes.

"Shirosaki-san," she said in a slightly louder and more persistent tone, but not loud enough to distract the class. Hanatarō glanced at her from her right with a partly questioning and partly alarmed look. He was obviously wondering why she had the gall to bother the Shirosaki of Karakura high.

Apparently, Shirosaki had heard her the second time because he pulled one earphone out and turned his head to look at her. He was probably wondering the same thing; his brows were drawn upwards and a curious look was on his face.

"Could you please turn down your music?" she whispered politely while keeping her peaceable smile in place. "It's quite distracting." As well as your gum-chewing, she wanted to add, but refrained herself from doing so. One thing at a time.

Rukia couldn't quite tell what he was thinking with the neutral expression he had, but she could swear he was amused at her attempt to quiet him down – especially since she could see the corners of his mouth slowly curling upwards.

She had, of course, taken into account that speaking to a well-known and potentially dangerous delinquent was probably not the best of ideas, but her mood was on edge, and she was not about to let her perfect grades drop because she had been too timid to ask a delinquent to turn down his music.

There was a moment of silence as he seemed to mull over her request. She waited half expectantly.

Surprisingly, he turned off his MP3 and tucked it away in his pocket before looking up at her with – she couldn't help but think – mischievous golden eyes.

"Better, doll?" he murmured silkily.

"Yes, thank you," Rukia replied coolly without changing her smile even though she was a little stunned inwardly. She hadn't really expected him to do it, but his easy compliance had changed her opinion of him considerably. Perhaps he wasn't just any old delinquent…

They both turned to face the front of the class as if nothing had occurred between them. She noticed Hanatarō peering at her from his bowed head in disbelief at the interaction. He quickly looked back down when he caught her eye.

Luckily, Shirosaki stopped popping bubbles during the rest of the class period as well. Rukia was in a considerably better mood by the end of the class.

Like the day before, Shirosaki stood without acknowledging anyone once Ochi-sensei completed her lecture and left. Rukia noticed the wide berth everyone kept from him as he made his way out of the class. He didn't seem to notice or care.

"Um, are you okay, Rukia-san?"

Rukia turned to see Hanatarō looking at her nervously from his seat.

"I'm fine," she answered. "Is something wrong?"

Hanatarō looked startled and quickly shook his head. "N-no. I was just surprised you talked to Shirosaki-san during class…"

Rukia couldn't quite understand what he was getting at but decided to leave it since he looked uncomfortable.

"Hey, Kuchiki, what was that about?"

Rukia saw Natsui approaching with the rest of the girls behind her.

"I saw you whispering with Shirosaki during class," Natsui said. "What were you talking about?"

"Nothing of importance," Rukia replied easily.

"What? No way! You must have been talking about something!"

Rukia attempted to calm Natsui down, but she refused until she received a satisfactory answer. Even the other girls were curious. Rukia hadn't expected they'd be this interested.

Of course, they were disappointed when she told them what actually happened but they were quite impressed by her audacity to request that the fearsome Shirosaki turn down his music.

"I thought Shirosaki-kun might like you," Inoue said thoughtfully.

"I don't think that's true," Rukia said with amusement towards the girl's skewed intuition.

Their conversation was put off when class began once more, and once again, Shirosaki's seat remained conspicuously empty.

Rukia decided to buy a juice box for lunch. She was heading towards the vending machine and absently checking her cellphone when she turned the corner in the hallway and bumped into a hard body.

She yelped and nearly fell backwards when a large hand gripped her upper arm to keep her from falling.

"Ah, sorry," she began to apologize when she looked up and paused at the sight that greeted her.

Tattoos and crimson hair.

That was her first impression of this student before recognition hit.

"Renji!"

His tattooed eyebrows furrowed slightly before his eyes widened as he recognized her as well.

"Rukia?" Abarai Renji, tall and muscular with his long crimson hair pulled up into a high ponytail, looked at her in disbelief.

"What are you doing here?" they both questioned in unison.

"I transferred here a few days ago," Rukia replied, reeling in shock at seeing her old childhood friend here, in this town of all places. "What about you?"

"I live here," he answered and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Remember when I moved away when we were kids? Well, this is where I've lived ever since."

Rukia recalled that Renji had told her where he was moving, but all the years that had separated them had made her forget. Their years together as children had been short but memorable until Renji had moved away when she was eight and he was nine.

She stepped back and studied her old friend. He'd certainly grown up since she'd last seen him. He was fit and looked quite well. The gray pants and white shirt of the uniform clashed with his bright hair, though. She frowned a little as she surveyed him.

"When did you get tattoos?"

He looked a bit embarrassed. "Uh, a couple years ago."

"What did your mother say?" Rukia shook her head in amusement as she remembered Renji's militaristic red-haired mother.

His smile looked a bit forced. "She didn't ever see it. She died a few years back from cancer."

"Oh," Rukia was immediately sorry for bringing it up. She never would have imagined such a strong, spirited woman would have passed away. It reminded her just exactly how long she and Renji had been separated.

"So how have you been doing?" Renji asked in attempt to lighten the mood.

"I've been well. How has life been in Karakura?"

"Fine, I guess. Could be better."

Renji invited her to eat lunch together. Pleased that she had found her childhood friend again, Rukia immediately agreed. They didn't talk about what had been happening in their lives during the years they were apart. Instead, they spoke of the fond memories recalled from childhood until the lunch period was over.

Rukia and Renji parted ways with a promise to eat lunch together again. She was quite happy that her day was turning out well.

She had unintentionally stayed at the public library late into the evening.

After school had ended, she'd decided to check out the library and had been so immersed in her textbook readings that she hadn't even noticed as the time slipped by until the librarian announced it was closing time.

It was pitch black outside and there was no one about. The moon was hidden behind the clouds, and there were only a few stars out so the only lights were the streetlights. It was oddly hushed with the occasional chirp of a cricket, but other than that, there was silence.

Rukia was quite comfortable in the darkness and she had no trouble walking home by herself at night, but her school friends' consistent warnings about gangs out and about during the night had her hurrying home. She had no desire to find herself in a troublesome situation.

She held her brown leather schoolbag tighter but walked confidently down the sidewalk. Unfortunately, the library building was located near the ghetto side of Karakura, which her friends had also warned her about. The gangs, they had told her, called it Hueco Mundo.

Rukia suddenly stopped short when she spotted a small group of men heading her way. She hesitated and mulled over the thought of just walking past them as inconspicuously as possible. Her apartment was only a few blocks away from here.

Her final decision was unattained, however, when one of them spotted her and motioned to the rest of the group towards her.

Suddenly feeling uneasy, Rukia started to turn back – she'd take the long way home – but catcalls and whistles sounded behind her. Despite herself, she glanced over her shoulder to see that they were following her.

"Hey, girlie! Come and play with us!" one of them called with a cackle.

"Yeah, we won't hurt you!" another said.

Rukia ignored them and hurried away. She was about to turn the corner when her forearm was unexpectedly locked in a tight grip and she was pulled to an abrupt stop. When had they—?

She turned to see herself surrounded by several men. Her nose wrinkled in repulsion at the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke wafting from their bodies. They all looked to be in their late twenties or more, but she couldn't tell very well in the night. She looked down at the hand gripping her arm and then up at the one whom it belonged to.

"Let go of me," her voice was deceptively calm but cold. Anyone else would probably be terrified in this situation, but Kuchiki Rukia did not cower for drunk men.

"Aw, don' be like that," the one who held her crooned. Rukia felt his thumb stroke her arm. "We just wanna talk. Get to know you better, eh?"

She attempted to pull her arm out of his grasp, but he only tightened his hold enough to bruise her tender skin.

"Wish she had bigger tits," one from her left said.

"At least she looks cute."

Laughter sounded. Rukia could feel herself recoiling from these beasts, but she didn't allow herself to panic.

"I get to go first," one announced, which immediately brought objections.

Realizing the intentions of his words, Rukia struggled to release her arm. There was no way she was letting any of them touch her. She finally jerked her arm away, but they were beginning to circle around her.

One of them reached for her, attempting to grope her breasts. Rukia's eyes flashed, incensed. She slapped his hand away.

"Do not dare touch me with your filthy hands, pig," she spat, disgusted by the lust in his face.

The others laughed raucously. The one who tried to grope her flushed in embarrassment and anger.

"Bitch!" he snarled, lunging for her.

Rukia was ready. She let his momentum carry him toward her before she her knee flew up, smashing him in the balls. He let out a squeak of disbelief, then fell backwards with a howl, clutching at his privates. The others paused in surprise at her attack, a slight hesitance before they resumed their advance, this time more cautiously.

"Damn, I'm going to fuck her good," one muttered, wiping drool from his fat lips. "They're always better when they got some fight in 'em."

Rukia stood her ground. She was never one to run, and despite her looks, she knew how to throw a good punch when she felt like it. On the other hand, facing this many might be tricky.

Suddenly, a pair of arms tackled her from behind, holding her still. Shit. Reacting quickly, Rukia dropped her schoolbag and slammed her heel on his instep, causing him to loosen his hold. She twisted and jammed her elbow into his flabby gut, and just as he doubled forward with a grunt, she crashed the heel of her palm into his face. He fell back with a scream of pain, blood flowing down his chin from his smashed nose. The others froze as the realized this might not be an easy prey.

Rukia's stance dared them to make another stupid move. She would fight with all she had before she'd let them lay a single finger on her.

"Feisty. I like it," a bolder one stated while he rubbed his crotch eagerly, not the least bit deterred by the two men groaning in pain on the ground.

Rukia glared at them even as she was quickly thinking of a way to escape. There was four of them left, each more excited because of the bolder man's words.

They all jumped at her at the same time. Rukia managed to take down another one before she found herself shoved to the ground. Her elbows scraped painfully against the concrete sidewalk and she grunted when one sat on top of her with his legs on either side of her hips.

"That's right, you shoulda been nicer to us. Now yer gonna get it," the one on top of her panted while tugging at the neck ribbon of her uniform. His breath was revolting and Rukia turned her face away in revulsion.

She tried to struggle, but two others held her arms down with bruising grips. Her upper body jerked when the one on top ripped open her school uniform, the buttons flying everywhere.

"Yer gonna like this, you little slut," he reached for her innocent white cotton bra to rip that away as well.

Rukia was about to scream when a foot suddenly smashed into his face, sending him flying off her and landing a few feet away. Eyes wide, she tilted her head up to see a white-clad figure above her standing between the two men holding her arms down.

She nearly gaped in disbelief as she recognized who it was.

"Having fun, boys?" Shirosaki smiled maliciously beneath his white hood. "Can I join in, too?"

The men holding her arms down scrambled to stand up.

"F-fuck, th-that's Shirosaki from the Hollows!" one of them stammered.

Shirosaki raised a single pale brow. "Oh? Ya know me? Gosh, I'm flattered."

"Fuck this, I'm gettin' outta here!"

One of them attempted to run, but Shirosaki was after him in a split second. He grabbed the back of the man's shirt collar and threw him effortlessly to the ground next to Rukia hard enough to knock him unconscious. She scooted backwards and tried to pull her shirt closed as she watched Shirosaki casually standing above her.

"Hey now, it's no fun when ya leave the party," he pouted. "I just got here."

The last man standing looked absolutely terrified. His knees shook and he slowly sank to the ground.

"Pl-please spare me! I won't do it again, I promise!" he half sobbed.

Shirosaki's smile was absolute evil. "Ya got ten seconds ta run."

The man stared at him in disbelief, as if he hadn't expected Shirosaki to let him go.

"One…" Shirosaki started.

The man scrambled to his feet.

"Ten!" Shirosaki sang and gleefully delivered a swift punch to the man's face before he could even start running.

Rukia gaped at Shirosaki, who was cackling like a madman as the man dropped like a stone. The new opinion she'd had of him during class dissolved away into nothing. Shirosaki was truly a delinquent through and through.

She stiffened slightly when he swiveled his head to look at her. Even in the almost complete darkness, his eyes managed to have an unnatural glow to them, which were only emphasized with his ghostly pale skin.

"Did ya have yer fun, doll?"

Rukia was instantly offended and bristled in indignation.

"I didn't need your help," she snapped.

He turned to fully face her with an enigmatic smile spread on his lips. "I wasn't helping you – I just wanted to have a little fun."

She scowled at him. She couldn't understand his thinking, and neither did she want to. Ignoring him, she attempted to stand and was surprised to find her legs were too shaky to move. Had she been that frightened?

"Ya gonna get up?"

Rukia looked up to see him watching her with something close to amusement and something else she couldn't accurately define.

"I will. I'm just—just resting a little," she retorted.

His smile widened slightly but he said nothing. Rukia focused on soothing her nerves before she tried standing again. She managed to make it to her feet without toppling over or releasing her tight hold on her ruined clothing covering her front. She picked up her schoolbag as well.

Shirosaki tilted his head to the side and studied her with interest.

"Yer small, but ya got some fight in ya," he observed.

Rukia looked at him with a frown. He didn't seem to be complimenting her, so she didn't reply right away.

"Where's yer place?"

The question surprised her. She hesitated.

"Relax. I ain't gonna rape ya. Rapists are the scum of the earth."

She wasn't certain about him, but she sensed he was being truthful.

"I live only a few blocks away," she answered.

Wondering if he was going to follow her, she looked at him questioningly. He only kept that neutral smile that didn't tell her anything.

After calling an ambulance for the fallen bodies, Rukia made her way home. Her body ached from being knocked to the ground, and her elbows were raw. She just wanted to get home, have a hot shower, and sleep.

By the time she was at her apartment building, it was nearly midnight. She glanced back to see that Shirosaki was still walking behind her, but he didn't seem to be paying attention to her. She wondered how long he would follow her.

When she reached the stairs leading up to her apartment, she glanced back once again, but found he was gone. Rukia looked about the empty streets from where she stood but didn't see any glimpses of white.

She finally went upstairs, confused. Shirosaki's actions didn't match his words. His behavior was puzzling.

She stopped in front of her do

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen."

Hichigo's lips quirked at Aizen's greeting, like he was some announcer or something. It would have been funnier if the Espada had answered with a "good afternoon" like obedient school children, but only silence met the greeting.

All of the Espada were gathered in one of the vacant rooms in Las Noches's basement. They stood apart in front of the closed door except for Aizen, Ichimaru, and Tousen, who stood near the center of the room.

The room was dimly lit, large, empty, and surprisingly, one of the few rooms that wasn't white. It was a dull gray, made of cement from floor to ceiling. As if to make up for it, the thick steel windowless door was white, though rusted a slightly copper color. The only furniture in the room was a single wooden chair in the middle of the room, which Hichigo himself was currently seated in.

His arms were bound behind the chair, the rough surface of the ropes chafing his wrists. Even his ankles were tied to the front two legs of the chair.

Aizen turned his attention to Hichigo. His head tilted slightly, the long lock of brown hair in his face brushing against the tip of his nose, and calmly surveyed Hichigo.

"Hichigo-kun," Aizen said with a small shake of his head. "I see you did not heed my warning."

Hichigo didn't answer, but his unconcerned smirk remained planted on his lips. Despite the current situation, he sat in a relaxed manner – or as relaxed as he could since he was all tied up.

Obviously, he had successfully botched the job last night. He'd sent the cops a little tip and had sat back and enjoyed the show. Four of the Hollows had been arrested along with one smuggler, and the smuggled firearms had been taken into custody. The rumor that the Hollows controlled most of the police force wasn't true, but they had useful connections inside the police force due to Aizen's influence and a cup-full of corrupt cops. Of course, the Soul Reapers had caught wind of the incident and were now preparing for the turf war as well.

Hichigo didn't know how much he'd ruined the boss's plans and he didn't give two shits, but he was eagerly anticipating the punishment Aizen had ordered early this morning. Despite his unruffled façade, his heart was wildly pumping adrenaline throughout his body, like there was a feral beast swathed with naked, savage energy beneath his skin, just waiting to rip through to the surface and stain his colorless flesh with crimson. He found it hard to keep his excited smile from spreading, white teeth flashing dangerously in the dim lighting, and didn't even attempt to halt it.

Aizen, of course, noted his unruly smile. Only a small curl of his lips indicated his unreadable reaction, though, and he didn't seem unpleased by Hichigo's willingness towards the upcoming punishment. The Espada behind him were undoubtedly uninterested in this affair; most were watching with visibly indifferent expressions as if the whole thing were a bore to them. Hichigo knew this punishment was more for their benefit than his. Aizen's public punishments kept them from freely disobeying his orders like Hichigo, as well as their unconscious behavior to avoid the usually fatal consequences of insubordination.

Hichigo sneered at them. The cowards. He wasn't afraid of a little pain.

"Shall we get started?" Aizen said pleasantly as if they were about to begin a tea party.

Ichimaru's fox-like smile never faltered as he went to the door and left. Moments later, the door opened and two large, bulky men stepped through with him. They were dressed plainly in old jeans and t-shirts, probably a couple miscreants the boss had picked up from the streets to do his dirty work. One had a shaved head with one side tattooed with a Chinese dragon. His chest and shoulders were bulging with straining muscles stretching his black t-shirt to the limit like he worked out twice a day, seven days a week. The other was dark skinned and actually had some hair – but not much – with a long scar from the corner of his left eye down to his jawline. He wasn't as bulky as his companion, but muscular all the same. They pretty much looked like bouncers working at a nightclub or bar.

Hichigo grinned at the sight of the muscle-heads. "Did ya invite these lovely fairies to the tea party for me, boss? I'm touched – ya didn't have to."

As expected, the pair stiffened at the insult while Hichigo cackled in amusement. Aizen's pleasant expression didn't change. He nodded to the duo, who smirked and cracked their knuckles as they approached. Hichigo's grin widened the closer they came, anticipation thrumming deep in his veins.

"C'mon closer – I don't bite – that hard," he cajoled impishly when they paused before him and awaited Aizen's signal to begin.

He must have missed the signal since the one with the tattoo was blocking his sight because the next thing he knew, a huge fist had decided to implant itself into his face. The sudden attack caused him to bite down hard on his tongue, a sharp pain before it numbed away like the pain in his cheek.

"Know any fairies that can punch like that?" baldy growled in a low, gravelly voice.

Hichigo spat out blood and spit onto the floor before smirking up at them. "My mistake. I shoulda known ya were pixies—OOF!"

This time it was the dark-skinned one who threw his meaty fist into his gut, cutting him off mid-sentence. The dark-skinned one looked satisfied for a brief moment before Hichigo looked at him and deliberately smiled with bared, bloody teeth.

"That all ya got? I barely even felt that," he taunted, delighting in the angry veins popping from their overly muscular heads.

"Yer gonna regret that, kid," baldy snarled as he drew back his clenched massive fist once more.

The fist seemed to fly at him in slow motion – he probably could have evaded it even bound as he was – but he made no attempt to avoid it. It connected powerfully with his lower jaw, sharply snapping his head back. The two didn't hesitate in beating him bloody this time, but Hichigo didn't even feel a shred of fear. When the chair was knocked down along with him, feet encased in hard-soled shoes joined the fists that rained down on his defenseless body. Their beatings only became harder when he continued to stare at them narrowly without flinching, as if unnerved by the unusual color. His bleeding mouth was twisted into what one could call an insane, savage grin, and his mocking taunts echoed through the cold room with the wet sounds of flesh hitting flesh.

Despite the violent beating presently occurring, Hichigo felt none of their blows and neither did he feel any contempt for the ones beating him. These ants weren't even worthy of his attention. Between the two hulking bodies, he rolled his eyes towards the doorway, clashing gold with brown. He and Aizen stared at each other silently until only a serene numbness filled his consciousness.

Shirosaki didn't come to school.

Rukia finally gave up trying to catch a glimpse of white during lunch or near the school entrance by the end of the day.

It looked like she'd just have to wait until he showed up so she could properly thank him. She'd had to apologize to Renji when flashes of white had caught her attention several times while she'd been eating lunch with him and gotten distracted from their conversation.

Now she was getting ready to leave for home.

"Hey, Kuchiki, you heading home now?" Arisawa said from where she stood with the other girls.

"Are you free?" Natsui asked before she could answer. "Let's go hang out!"

"Oh, that sounds fun! You haven't been to the karaoke boxes yet, right, Kuchiki-san?" inquired Inoue.

"Sure, that sounds great," Rukia replied. She hadn't had the chance to actually "hang out" as friends would, so she was looking forward to it.

"I'll be leaving now," Kunieda stood from her desk and picked up her schoolbag.

"Ryō's not coming?" Natsui asked curiously as they watched the raven-haired girl leave the classroom.

"She has cram school," Ogawa explained.

"Aw, what a party pooper. She needs to go out more and have some fun," pouted Natsui.

"Why don't we invite Yamada-kun, too?" Inoue suggested.

"It seems he already went home," Rukia said, feeling slightly disappointed. She hadn't had the chance to exchange numbers with him, and she didn't even know if he owned a cellphone. And to add to that, neither did she know where he lived. She hadn't eaten lunch with him for the past two days because she'd been with Renji. Suddenly feeling guilty for neglecting the first friend she'd made upon arriving, Rukia inquired about his home address or possibly a phone number.

Unfortunately, none of the girls knew.

"He's the quiet type I guess, so he doesn't talk much to anyone," Arisawa said.

"Yeah. I think you're the first person—actually, the only person I've seen him hang around with," Natsui put in.

Before Rukia could question about this further, the girls began preparing to leave for their karaoke outing. She had certainly realized that Hanatarō rarely spoke to anyone but her. Even though he ate lunch with the girls as well, he seldom said anything, although he answered with a nervous stutter when an occasional query was thrown his way.

"Are you coming, Kuchiki-san?" Inoue asked, startling Rukia out of her thoughts.

"Ah, of course," she nodded in confirmation. "I just need to grab my schoolbag."

They left together soon afterwards. Rukia listened to them chat together with interest. She wasn't sure what friends usually talked about, but from her understanding and observations, girls talked mostly about guys, clothes, shopping, and other things that were considered girlish. But over the past few days, she found that these girls rarely strayed to those topics and kept up a customarily comedic routine – especially between Inoue, Honshō, and Arisawa – that she discovered she enjoyed immensely. Guys and shopping were topics she wouldn't be able to smoothly step into since she'd never had an interest in either.

Ah well, there was no point in thinking about these useless thoughts when she was with her friends.

Hichigo woke up feeling like a semi-truck had run him over, backed up, and then run him over again just to get the job done. His whole body ached unmercifully, and his head pounded to a constant, rhythmic beat. To put it simply, he felt like shit.

Wincing slightly as he sat up, he glanced around and noticed the lumpy little couch he was currently laying on.

When had he gotten to Starrk's place? The last thing he remembered was his and Aizen's little glaring contest before he'd blacked out.

Hichigo gingerly sat up, ignoring the sharp pain jolting through his body with every little movement. It looked like the boss had ordered his little fairies to not break any bones, but they certainly had had a grand time beating the shit out of him.

He placed both feet firmly on the ground and attempted to stand. Pain instantly shot up his legs and right to his gut. His legs felt like jelly, but he managed to stand without wobbling too much. A quick look around the living room showed that Starrk had conveniently left his sports bag next to the couch. He briefly riffled through it and was relieved to see that the Primera had even remembered to grab Zangetsu from the safe. Looks like he owed the older man.

Ignoring the soreness, he slung the bag over his shoulder and made his way to the door. Pain he could take. He'd always had a high tolerance to it. Anyone else would probably be bedridden for a week. Give him a few hours and he was back on his feet without a care.

He sat down to put on his sneakers at the entrance and left the shoddy little apartment. A quick look at his watch told him he'd been out for about six hours. School was long over. Lilynette was probably out playing with her friends and Starrk, well, he was probably at the local bars.

Or not, Hichigo thought when he saw a familiar head of shoulder-length messy brown hair at the bottom of the stairs.

"You up?" the Primera said without turning from where he was seated on the steps with a cigarette stuck between his lips.

"Did the boss give ya permission to bring me here?" Hichigo asked without bothering to answer Starrk's inquiry as he stopped next to the Primera. He was mildy curious – he had thought Aizen would have left him tied to the chair until he woke.

"No," was the tired reply.

Hichigo studied the older man. Starrk had no reason to drag his sorry-ass out of the torture chamber, especially without the boss's permission. Frankly, he couldn't fathom why the Primera would do such a thing, and he didn't care enough to ask. He hadn't asked for help, and if Starrk got punished, it was his own doing that led to it.

"Huh," Hichigo snorted more to himself than Starrk. "I'll see ya if yer alive the next time we meet."

He had begun to limp away when Starrk spoke again.

"Your phone was ringing for the past few hours."

Hichigo stopped but didn't turn around.

"I didn't answer it, but they're probably worried, you know. It's already been six months since you've last been home."

Hichigo turned his head and regarded the older man for a minute. "It's none of yer fuckin' business."

Starrk didn't reply, but his cool blue-gray eyes remained on the retreating white figure turning the corner before he stood, stomped out his cigarette, and went back inside.

"That was fun! We should do it again sometime," Inoue chirped cheerily as they left the karaoke box.

They had been at it for three hours. Rukia hadn't been inclined to sing, but it had been entertaining to watch the others sing. They had managed to get her to sing once, but after that, she'd politely declined any other requests. Her voice wasn't the best.

"It's getting pretty late. Did you want us to walk you home, Kuchiki?" Arisawa asked when she noted the darkening sky.

"I'm fine, thank you. I don't live far from here." It was sort of true. She lived about a twenty minute walk from here.

After assuring the others she was fine walking on her own, they parted ways. Everyone else lived in the same general direction except for Rukia, who lived on the other side of town. She'd never told them about the incident last night. Nothing had really happened, so she'd concluded that it wasn't that important.

This time she took the longer route much further from the ghetto side of Karakura. She had no desire to get into another predicament like last night, so the extra ten minutes back to her apartment was just a precaution on her part.

Rukia didn't know what had caught her attention, but it must have been the glimpse of white that she'd been trying to track all day.

Was that—?

Cautiously and somewhat hesitantly, she stopped and peered at the gap between two buildings. She was certain she had seen something from the corner of her eye when she'd passed by a moment before.

Taking a few wary steps closer, she examined the small alley. It was narrow, but there was a dump that had managed to be squeezed in-between the buildings. Garbage littered the ground along with broken glass and other things she didn't want to identify. Her nose wrinkled at the sour odor wafting from the alley.

Had she been mistaken? She was about to back up when she saw what had caught her attention earlier.

A shoe.

And not just any shoe. A white shoe. Attached to a leg. The rest of whoever it was was hidden behind the dumpster.

A homeless person perhaps? Maybe a dead body? Rukia pulled out her cellphone and flicked it open to shine some light in the dim alley. Had she not been searching all day for a particular person, she might have just kept on going home rather than stopping to investigate.

She winced inwardly when her shoes crunched loudly on the broken glass but whoever it was behind the dumpster didn't even twitch. Other than the crunching of her steps and her soft breathing, everything was quiet.

She edged her way around the dumpster, eyes locked on the unmoving shoe, grimacing when the narrow space made her back scrape against the grimy brick wall. Gross.

Once she caught sight of the person leaning against the wall, she slowly lowered her cellphone. Not like she needed a light to see him anyways. His skin and clothing made him seem like a beam of light in the darkness.

Seated on the filthy ground with his back to the equally filthy wall next to the dumpster was Shirosaki. His head was lowered and his hood was pulled up, making her unable to see his face clearly. His arms hung limply at his sides, and a black sports bag sat next to him. He appeared to be unconscious.

It might have been the paleness of his skin that made her notice the dark smudge on the visible part of his lower face. A closer inspection told her it was an ugly bruise, fresh and a dark purple-blue color. His usually pale lips were slightly tinged blue, which worried her greatly, and was split with congealed blood at the corner. She then noticed a larger bruise from his neck to his collarbone, disappearing into his t-shirt.

Had he gotten into a fight? Should she call for an ambulance? Perhaps she should see if he was alive first.

Rukia reached towards Shirosaki with the intention of checking for a pulse, but her wrist was suddenly encased in a tight, firm grip. The suddenness made her squeak in alarm, eyes flying towards the lowered head.

Shirosaki lifted his head and met her startled look with a calm golden gaze beneath his hood. If he was surprised that she was here, he didn't show it. He simply raked a brief glance over her before settling back on her face, which she had managed to compose in the seconds it took him to scrutinize her.

"What do ya want? I'm trying ta get some sleep here."

She blinked at the question, and then at his unexpected statement. "I…you – wait – you're sleeping here?"

He only raised an ash-white eyebrow that clearly said, yeah, you got a problem with that?

Rukia decided not to question him further on this.

"I just saw, er, your shoe and came to see if it was you," she gestured towards him vaguely in attempt to explain why she was here.

He glanced down at said shoe and then back up at her.

"Yeah, it's me. So what do ya want?" his words were blunt, bordering on rude.

Despite the fact that it had been her that had disturbed him, she stiffened at his rudeness. And here she'd actually been worried about him for a minute.

"Well, it seems you're fine, so I will be leaving," she replied as coolly as she could without adding any rancor to her tone. She looked pointedly where he still held her wrist in his grasp.

He didn't make any move to release her, and his unnerving eyes remained on her face. Rukia suddenly remembered his injured state when his head tilted up further and she saw a dark bruise in the shape of a large fist angled over his right jaw.

"Do you need an ambulance?" she asked without thinking.

He blinked, slowly, like a cat. "What for?"

"You're injured."

He looked down at himself, as if just remembering that he was bruised up badly enough that anyone else would probably be writhing in pain. She was suddenly made wary when a speculative gleam came to his eyes.

"Ya live alone right?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "Why do you want to know?"

A cheeky smile appeared. "I'll take that as a yes."

She started to scowl.

"I'm stayin' at yer place tonight."

Her scowl froze midway. "What?"

"Ya heard me correctly, if yer wonderin'."

The unexpected change in conversation made her stumble mentally a bit.

"I—what do you—don't you need to go to a hospital?"

"Don't wanna."

She just stared at him. "And why not?"

"'cause I said so."

Despite herself, she felt a tiny smile pushing at her mouth even though his unreasonable attitude was frustrating. Was he really acting like a child right now?

"Look, Shirosaki-san—"

"Yer just gonna leave me here all bruised and hurt?"

Never, not since she'd met him, had she imagined that she would be seeing Shirosaki look at her with big, helpless puppy eyes, and she had never imagined that it might actually work. And despite her misgivings, she couldn't very well leave him here.

Unbeknownst to her as she mulled over her options, a satisfied smirk appeared on his face before quickly disappearing when she looked back at him.

"I still don't think—" she started in attempt to politely decline his offer and perhaps call an ambulance.

"Just for one night," he interrupted again with a small pout and puppy eyes. "I just need a place to sleep."

Even though she wanted to refuse, ten minutes later Rukia found herself leading Shirosaki to her apartment and wondering where she could have gone wrong.

By the time they had reached her apartment, Rukia had begun to seriously doubt her choice in accepting Shirosaki's request to stay overnight.

Any other person in their right mind would have simply called an ambulance and left it at that, but somehow she had ended up leading this undoubtedly dangerous delinquent straight to her door not once, but twice.

She furtively glanced behind her as she mounted the stairs to see him following unconcernedly as if he didn't have a care in the world. His eyes met hers and a wicked smirk stretched his lips before she quickly turned forward again.

Damn him, he'd successfully manipulated her into allowing him to stay with those puppy dog eyes of his. Who know he could pull something like that? Especially with those unnatural gold eyes? He was far too unpredictable – she didn't know what to expect from him. First he saved her, then he ignored her and treated her like a stranger – well, they technically were strangers, but that was beside the point – and now he expected her to just allow him to stay with her like they were friends? Rukia usually stuck firmly to her decisions like superglue, but now she was feeling almost uncertain, and that never boded well for her.

She stopped in front of her apartment door. Unlocking it, she exhaled silently and opened the door before turning to face him.

"Come in," she invited evenly despite feeling like she was inviting the devil in her home.

He strode in past her, the ever-present smirk on his face. Rukia closed the door and locked it like usual. She turned to see he had stopped in the small hallway after kicking off his shoes and was observing the rather small apartment with mild curiosity. Her apartment wasn't large, and she preferred it that way. There was one bathroom in the small hallway they were currently in, a living room where the hallway led to, a kitchen to the left of the living room, and her bedroom, which was located on the right of the living room. The walls were mostly white, and the floors except for the bathroom and kitchen were carpeted. Her furniture was sparse with the exception of a couch in the living room and a hardwood coffee table in front of it. She didn't own a T.V. yet, but she was planning on purchasing one soon. Her trusty radio worked to inform her of the weather and such. Several unpacked boxes littered the floor, but he simply stepped over them as he headed towards the living room.

She watched as he paused and stared at the faded pastel yellow couch, and then muttered something about lumpy couches. She frowned and just prevented herself from saying something. Her couch wasn't lumpy. She'd purchased it from a kind citizen of Karakura a few days ago when she'd spotted the forlorn old couch sitting outside a house waiting to be thrown away. While there were a few tears here and there, she'd patched it up quite nicely, if she did say so herself. Well, some of the spongy foam inside was missing, leaving it a little uneven, but it was comfy and she liked it, so that was all that mattered.

Rukia stepped out of her shoes and placed them neatly at the entrance. She eyed Shirosaki's shoes he had carelessly kicked off before leaning down to arrange them next to hers. She wasn't a neat freak, but she liked to keep her home tidy.

Walking into the living room, she spotted him placing his dirty sports bag on the floor next to the couch. That reminded her of exactly where he had been when she found him.

"Would you like to take a bath?"

He turned to look at her curiously when she spoke.

"The towels are in the bathroom," Rukia continued. She wasn't going to let him sleep in her abode smelling like he'd crawled out of a dump. She paused, recalling something, and looked at him inquiringly. "Do you have a change of clothes?"

"I have clothes," he replied, jerking a thumb towards his sports bag.

Rukia glanced down at it, briefly wondering if his clothes smelled as bad as the bag it was currently in.

"They're clean," he added with an amused smirk when he saw caught her look.

Rukia nodded curtly. "Very well. I'll find my first aid kit while you clean up."

She was about to leave the room to do what she just said when she spotted the scowl that formed on his face.

"I don't need it."

She frowned at the stubborn words, stopping by the open entrance of the living room. "You're hurt—"

"I don't need it," he repeated, this time with a darker intone as his eyes narrowed slightly.

Rukia pursed her lips at his adamant response. He clearly was injured and needed medical assistance, but his averseness in accepting her aid was baffling. Why was he being so stubborn about it? His wounds would be treated, and she wouldn't feel terrible for allowing him to stay untreated, so it seemed like a win-win situation to her, but he seemed to feel differently.

Shirosaki leaned down to pick up his sports bag and walked towards her. Rukia, thinking he was about to leave, was about to stop him despite her earlier reluctance in allowing him into her home, but he simply brushed past her and headed towards the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and Rukia could only stare at the closed door, a deep furrow planted between her brows.

With a quiet sigh, she went to grab her first aid kit. No matter what he said, she was going to bandage him up, especially since he refused to go to the hospital. She might not want him in her home, but she wasn't going to leave him injured and untended even though he treated it as if it were nothing. It was strictly against her morals to do so, no matter who it was.

She grabbed the first aid kit from her room and placed it on the coffee table in the living room before heading to the kitchen. Thinking she might as well warm up the leftovers from last night for dinner, Rukia pulled open the refrigerator door and critically eyed the single Tupperware containing last night's take-out dinner consisting of steamed vegetables and chopped pork. She shut the door and glanced about the kitchen with a slight frown. Last night's dinner would be enough for her, but it certainly wouldn't feed two people.

She turned to the cupboards she'd stocked when she first moved in and plucked out a box of spaghetti noodles. She wasn't a chef, but she could cook up something edible when needed. Pasta was one thing she could make without turning the kitchen into a tornado zone, which was strange since she wasn't all that fond of pasta, but she wasn't going to complain when it would fulfill the grumbling in her belly.

About twenty minutes later, the shower shut off and the shower curtains were pushed aside. One downside of her apartment was the rather thin walls, but it was a minor problem she could live with. She disregarded the rustling sounds in the bathroom and focused on pouring the sauce evenly into the pan of steaming noodles. There was already a bowl of microwaved meatballs waiting to be added on the countertop.

By the time Shirosaki emerged from the bathroom, their pasta dinner was sitting on the small round table in the kitchen while she was busily trying to undo a bag of paper plates since she hadn't had the chance to purchase any real kitchenware. From the kitchen, she glimpsed Shirosaki step into the living room and toss the sports bag next to the couch once again. He had one of her pale yellow towels thrown across his shoulders and was using one end to dry off his damp hair. She noticed how his usual spiky locks were flattened against his scalp and briefly thought of how it gave him sort of a subdued look from his usual daunting appearance. He had donned a simple white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Even from the kitchen Rukia could clearly spot the multitude of dark bruises decorating the exposed skin of his arms and neck, as well as what she could see of his face. She saw him pause and scowl down at the first aid kit innocently sitting on the coffee table in front of him before quickly turning back to setting up the table when he turned in her direction with a glare. Moments later she heard him approaching the kitchen.

"Didn't I tell ya – what're ya doing?"

Rukia turned and raised a brow. "Making dinner?"

He frowned, and she was almost amused to glimpse the confused look on his face before his typical arrogant expression returned.

"What are ya doing that for?" he demanded, motioning towards the table as he spoke.

"I'm hungry," Rukia replied. "And I'm guessing you didn't have dinner, either."

His scowl deepened, and he grunted something she didn't catch. She could only surmise he was wondering why she wasn't cowering in fear of him like everyone else. It was simple; she wasn't scared of him, and he hadn't given her any reason to fear him. She was wary, yes, but that was all.

Since the knot hadn't loosened at all, she gave up on trying to undo the stubborn knot of the bag of paper plates and simply ripped a hole in it with her finger before pulling out two plates. Grabbing two pairs of plastic utensils, she filled two cups with cold sink water, neatly setting the table with Shirosaki silently watching. Lucky for them, she had two wooden stools for the small dining table. She seated herself on one and looked up at him, noting that he was staring at her as if she were an odd creature that randomly happened to appear in front of him.

"Would you like dinner?" she asked pleasantly.

A scowl pulled at his features as he seemed to debate over accepting. She didn't know what the problem was – it wasn't as if her cooking was that terrible – but she merely waited for his response, having the feeling that she would have to be patient with him if she ever interacted with him in the future. Seeming to make up his mind, he tossed the towel from his shoulders to the couch and stepped into the kitchen. He seated himself opposite of her, keeping his eyes on her. He didn't make any move towards his plate or utensils, so she took the liberty to initiate dinner. She forked the sauce-covered noodles onto her paper plate along with a few meatballs and set it in front of her. She glanced up to see he was eyeing the gently steaming pasta as if it were a plateful of intestines rather than spaghetti.

"Are you not hungry?"

He looked at her with an inscrutable expression. Rukia was beginning to wonder if he thought she poisoned it or something with the way he was behaving. She was more curious about his odd behavior than offended, watching him pick up his plastic fork and fork some spaghetti onto his plate.

She took her cue to begin her meal, focusing on not making a mess of herself rather than pay attention to him. She daintily dabbed the sauce with a napkin from the corners of her mouth after each bite, noticing that Shirosaki didn't bother with it. The dinner was silent for the most part, but she didn't mind since she had nothing to say to him anyways.

He finished his meal surprisingly quickly before standing and tossing his used utensils and plate into the trash. He simply wiped his mouth with the back of his hand – which made Rukia frown because, yes, that was pretty gross in her opinion – and went back into the living room without a backward glance or even a 'thank you for the meal'. It wasn't as if Rukia expected it, but she was a bit disgruntled at his lack of manners.

Finishing her meal as well, she quickly cleaned up before returning to the living room. Shirosaki was lounging on the couch with his eyes closed. She wasn't sure if he was sleeping or not, but she supposed she would have to disturb him if she wanted to bandage him up, especially since the first aid kit was sitting untouched on the coffee table.

However, before she could say anything, a loud noise suddenly erupted from him, making her jump in surprise. Without opening his eyes, Shirosaki reached in his pocket and pulled out a silver-colored cellphone. He didn't bother checking it before turning off and placing it back in his pocket. Rukia stared at him for a moment before disregarding the action.

"Shirosaki-san?" Rukia said.

There was a long minute of silence before he opened his eyes and regarded her with disinterest. "What?"

"I would like to treat your injuries," Rukia said, deciding it would be better to be polite about it considering his unpredictable personality.

Like before his eyes narrowed in an obviously aggressive manner, and while Rukia was confident in her ability to take care of herself, there was no doubt who was the stronger and most dangerous one, so she remained wary yet resilient while faced before him. She knew when to retreat, but she also knew that stronger and more dangerous didn't mean she would lose.

"I told ya I don't need it," he snapped. "Didn't ya hear the first time?"

Instead of backing off, Rukia gazed at him coolly, as if unimpressed by his display of anger, but she had become quite tense in case he became violent. It seemed he didn't care if she was polite about it, so she threw off her daily schoolgirl façade and allowed her eyes to become emotionlessly cold as she had learned to do long ago.

"Shirosaki-san, you are obviously in need of treatment, but considering you refused to go to the hospital earlier, my only option left is to treat you myself," she stated boldly, arms crossed on her chest and legs apart in a determined stance. "I suggest we do this quickly so you will not have to bother yourself with my presence any longer tonight."

Silence met her declaration. Shirosaki stared at her with wide eyes, obviously not expecting the complete change in her personality. Had she been someone besides Kuchiki Rukia, she might have been amused, but she was not. She felt no amusement when someone was injured, and she was willing to face his volatile temperament if it got the results she wanted.

Rukia stared at him, unmoving, but his reaction to her carefully layered character change was startling – he began laughing. Hard. It first began as a short chuckle, and then his frame began to shake, and then he simply threw his head back and guffawed. Rukia blinked, feeling a little bemused.

"Shirosaki-san?" she began tentatively once his laughter quieted to snorts and giggles.

"Ya—" he gasped out. "I knew there was something different about ya."

Rukia eyed him warily. "What do you mean by that?"

He managed to calm himself for the most part and smirked. "When yer at school – ya act all nice an' everything, but this is priceless! This is what yer really like, ain't it?"

Rukia merely looked at him, which was probably enough to confirm what he had guessed because he began laughing again. Sadly enough, it was true, which was why she had been determined to change for the better in this town. Before now, she had rarely expressed her emotions so widely, and many had simply written her off as 'cold'. They were wrong, of course. She did feel everything everyone else felt, but she only hid it better.

"Will you allow me to treat your injuries?" Rukia asked coolly, deciding to get back to her original objective. It wouldn't do to bring up the past when she wanted to work on her future.

Shirosaki, finally having stopped his chuckles, was grinning broadly. "I'll let ya do it and only 'cause ya showed me yer true self. Don't give me that crap ya do at school – it pisses me off. And stop callin' me 'Shirosaki-san'. It's annoying."

Rukia hesitated briefly before accepting his terms. Strange how she had never noticed his irritation at her polite schoolgirl façade. She had thought him to express his emotions loudly and clearly since his facial expressions always seemed to change, but evidently she was mistaken. Perhaps behind his wild grins and smirks there was more to him than he let on. It seemed they both had things they kept hidden away, Rukia decided as she picked up the first aid kit.

"Take off your shirt, please," Rukia instructed, ignoring the suggestive grin he sent her.

He did as told, tossing his shirt on the seat beside him. Rukia was surprised to see how many more bruises and injuries he had concealed under his shirt. The alabaster skin was covered in splotches of purplish-blue. A rather large and ugly bruise had formed around his left ribs with a yellowish tinge to it, as if someone had kicked him repeatedly. How could he behave as if it were nothing? Every movement must be excruciating, but he didn't even seem aware of it.

"How long are ya gonna stare?"

Rukia shook herself inwardly and met his curious look with a dispassionate one. "I'll apply some ointment and wrap gauze around it for now. You'll need to reapply it tomorrow as well."

He was silent as he watched her open the first aid kit and take out a small jar of ointment. It would ease the pain and keep the swelling down, but the healing would have to be up to him. She checked the gauze rolls as well, noting that she would have to buy more later considering the amount she would have to use to cover up all of the bruises. Rukia gave him an onceover and decided to do his arms first. They weren't as badly bruised as his torso, but it gave her time to examine his other wounds.

She unscrewed the cap of the jar and dabbed some on his forearm with her finger. He was strangely quiet, but she wasn't complaining.

"I apologize if I hurt you," she said as she concentrated on covering the bruises and several nasty scrapes with feather-light touches.

He snorted but otherwise didn't speak. She could feel his eyes tracking her every movement, but it didn't disturb her as much as she thought it would. Now that she had learned that he wasn't just any old delinquent, he seemed much more human and a little less intimidating. Even so, she wasn't letting her guard down around him. He might seem more human, but that didn't make him any less dangerous.

The atmosphere was relatively calm as she worked her way up to his bicep and shoulder. As she rubbed more ointment on him, she noticed he was fairly muscular under his lean frame. He was well-built, like an athlete. Perhaps like a runner or a swimmer. She didn't know if he did any sports or if he was in any clubs, but she doubted it. Taking her time to scrutinize him while she continued spreading the ointment to his collarbone and chest, Rukia realized he was much, much more built than a regular high school student. She could feel the muscles tensing and relaxing under her gentle touches, as if he weren't as comfortable with her touches as he made it seem. Most high school males tended to be a bit flabby or too skinny, but Shirosaki didn't appear to have an ounce of fat on him. Not only that, but the unique and colorless skin was fascinating. She had never seen anything like it. It was the first time she was able to see it up close. His skin was paper-white, smooth, and completely human. Tiny hairs covered his forearm, but they were invisible unless one actually felt them. She had almost expected him to be cool to the touch, but he was warm.

It wasn't until now that Rukia realized she had never really considered him to be completely human. He had seemed like an exotic enigma the moment she'd laid eyes on him – like an untouchable and unreachable being. Now, as she smoothed her hands over him and felt the very close and very human heat emanating from his body, she felt ashamed of herself for considering him anything other than a fellow human being, as if he was a thing to be wary of. Rather than avoiding him as she had planned, perhaps it would be better to get to know him. It was clear that there was more to him than anyone would have guessed, and this was the first time Rukia had ever met anyone like him. Naturally, she was curious.

"I'll use the gauze now," Rukia told him after she finished applying the ointment. "I'll wrap your torso. If you can do your arms, there's another roll in the kit."

There was an odd glint to his eyes when he grabbed the extra roll, but she disregarded it as a trivial matter. Once she readied the gauze, Rukia realized there was no comfortable way of wrapping his torso. Rather than think too much on it, she knelt and started at his waist, working her way upwards. Her movements were methodic and precise even as her face was level with his midsection. It didn't occur to her at the moment the kind of position they were in – with her kneeling between his legs and her arms about his waist. It was impossible to not touch, and he couldn't wrap his arms with her kneeling in front of him.

Some minutes later, she stood from her kneeling position, her knees aching, and placed the gauze back in the kit. Rukia noticed they were almost face-level even though he was still seated on the couch and she was standing. He was quite a bit taller than most high school students as well. His physical appearance was far more enhanced than normal standards, and it was rather pleasing to the eye. He might even be considered attractive if it weren't for his daunting appearance.

"I'll apply ointment to the bruises on your face," Rukia said before her thoughts could go deeper.

Shirosaki grunted something that she took as an agreement, so she picked up the ointment and began applying it to the bruises on his face. She noticed how he was staring at her unashamedly with hooded eyes, but she couldn't read what he was thinking. There was still that dark glint she had noticed earlier, but she was unable to tell what had caused it.

"I'll apply some on your lip, but you should avoid ingesting it," Rukia said once she completed the bruises on his chin, cheekbone, and under his left eye.

Putting a bit of ointment on her index finger, she carefully spread it on his split lower lip. His bottom lip was surprisingly plump, but that might have been the swelling. The upper lip was thin with a small cupid's bow. Rather than white like his skin, they were a pale pinkish hue that would have gone unnoticed unless one was close enough to observe it. Suddenly feeling like she was invading in his space, she quickly removed her finger and turned to pick up some band aids. These would be enough for the bruises on his face. She carefully put them on and stepped back.

"Would you like me to do your arms as well?" she questioned, noting that he was still holding the gauze in his hand.

"No," he answered gruffly with a slight husk in his tone that piqued her curiosity and concern. Had she hurt him? He hadn't said anything, though, so she was uncertain.

He began bandaging his arms with ease, making her think he was used to it. Perhaps he hadn't needed her help with it after all. Recognizing that she was being ignored, Rukia took her cue to leave the living room and retreat to her own room. She hadn't expected any thanks nor did she want it. She hadn't helped him to be thanked in the first place.

Once she was inside her bedroom, she changed her school uniform for her usual casual wear, which consisted of a knee-length dress. She randomly picked a light blue one and pulled it over her head. Pushing away the single bang that hung between her eyes, she went to her closet and took out an extra blanket. She didn't have another pillow stored away, so she grabbed one from her own bed, hoping he didn't mind that she used it. She hadn't really expected anyone to stay over so soon, so she hadn't prepared anything for potential guests. Supposing she would also have to prepare for guests in the future, she added extra blankets and pillows to her growing list of things to purchase. Living alone was much more complicated and costly than she'd thought. It wasn't really a problem since she had saved a lot over the years, but perhaps it would be a good idea to look for a job soon.

With that thought in mind, Rukia headed to the door to give Shirosaki the pillow and blanket.

Once she had left, Hichigo continued wrapping gauze around his arms. Although the pain had been bearable before, it was now minimal with the ointment she had applied. Hichigo never would have allowed anyone to come near him if he was injured, but considering he had learned something very interesting about her, he had thought it would be only fair if he did something in return.

It turned out to be quite a good decision. He never really had any strong preferences when it came to females. As long as she had a decent face and figure, then he was all for it. However, this little doll was something else. Unlike the easy females from school, he recognized this one would be a harder catch. Despite their fear of him, the majority of females were attracted to his unusual looks and dangerous air. He had taken advantage of it whenever he felt like it, but it soon bored him. There was no challenge if they willingly fell at his feet when he came near.

But there was something different about the girl. He couldn't pinpoint it, but there seemed to be a refined air about her even though she tried to hide it by acting like a nice and polite schoolgirl when around others. He didn't like it one bit, but he found he liked her real personality a lot. Cool, calm, and cold. Her face had been flawlessly blank when she looked at him, her eyes piercing and seeming to be older than her years. When he'd first seen her in the night, he'd thought her eyes had been black, but they were an attractive dark shade of violet.

Unconsciously smiling to himself, Hichigo surprisingly found himself becoming more interested in a slip of a girl. Despite her tiny size, there wasn't an ounce of fear or wariness when she had been standing close enough to touch, and her steady gaze hadn't wavered in the slightest. She obviously wasn't any ordinary high school girl, but for some reason, she was trying to be.

He wasn't interested that, though. From her closeness as she treated his wounds and the feather-light touches as she slid her delicate fingers across his bare skin, he had surmised one thing: he wouldn't mind tapping that. One glance might mistake her for being curve-less, but that was untrue. She did have curves – they were small, but they were definitely there. He had had the perfect chance to study her while she had been so close, and anyone with eyes would have noticed the press of the small curves of her breasts against her shirt, the tiny waist encased in the drab gray skirt, and the flare of her hips curving the skirt's folds to mid-thigh. And not to mention her legs, which had been one of the first things he'd noticed about her. He hadn't had a good view of them while she had been kneeling between his legs – and yes, he had been very well aware that she'd been kneeling in a very nice position – but once he got her into bed, then he would have the chance to explore the rest of her little body as much as he liked. Just as his imagination would have taken off into the fantasy land of sexy little dolls, she walked out of the room she had gone in with a folded blanket and pillow in her arms.

"I don't have an extra room, so the couch will have to do," she said, placing the blanket and pillow on the seat next to him.

Hichigo didn't bother to reply, too busy raking his gaze over her small form. She noticed but didn't say anything. From the slight wrinkle between her brows, she probably didn't know that he was thinking naughty thoughts about her. An amused smirk worked its way to his lips.

"If yer done, then I'll be going to sleep, doll, but I don't mind if ya wanna join me," he practically purred.

She didn't even blink at the suggestive tone. "Very well, I will let you get ready for bed. Good night, Shirosaki-san."

"Didn't I tell ya not to call me that?" he growled, his irritation returning.

"Then what should I call you?" she asked.

"My name's Shirosaki Hichigo, and don't bother adding any other crap to my name," he told her.

"Alright," she said slowly. "Would you mind if I called you Hichigo, then?"

It was Hichigo's turn to blink. He had been expecting her to just call him just plain 'Shirosaki' like everyone else. No one dared call him by his first name except for the boss. He hated the '-kun' the boss added to his name, but he hadn't bothered to correct it.

"I didn't know we were so close," he couldn't help but tease.

She pressed her lips into a thin line. "Good night, Shirosaki."

Once she smoothly made her exit back to where he assumed was her bedroom, he relaxed back in the lumpy couch with a grin, ignoring the soreness of his limbs. Huh, looks like the little doll had a temper, but she hid it well. He wouldn't mind seeing what she looked like when she snapped.

Feeling more at ease than he usually did, Hichigo picked up the pillow and laid it down at the end of the couch he was sitting on. He unfolded the blanket and made himself comfortable before settling down.

"Oh, wait, almost forgot," he muttered to himself, sitting back up and grabbing his sports bag. He riffled through it and took out Zangetsu. A smile anyone else would find disturbing found its way to his mouth as he caressed the bowie knife. It always contented him to have it near, and he liked to sleep with it under his pillow. Unfortunately, the past few nights hadn't permitted him a pillow, so he'd had to keep it zipped up in his bag close at hand.

Taking it out of the black leather sheath, he skimmed the razor-sharp black blade with the pad of his finger. He wasn't careless enough to cut himself on his own blade, but it wouldn't do to have a dull knife. Besides, he didn't have anyone else to test it out on, and he didn't feel like getting up to try it out on the little doll.

Finally sheathing it, Hichigo lay back down and placed it under the pillow. He might as well try and get some rest while he could.

With a sigh, Rukia stretched her arms behind her head and checked the time on her laptop. It was nearly eleven thirty. It had been about two hours since she had spoken to Shirosaki. She wondered if he was asleep yet.

Deciding she would complete the rest of her essay tomorrow, Rukia stood from her desk and went to rummage through her drawers for her sleeping clothes. Since she had a guest tonight, she couldn't come back from her shower in only her towel like usual, so she had to change in the bathroom. She gathered the necessary things and quietly opened the door.

The living room was dark, and she couldn't make out any movement on the couch. Thinking he must be asleep, Rukia quietly made her way to the bathroom. Once inside, she stripped and turned on the shower, waiting until the water was warm enough to step inside the tub. Perhaps tomorrow she would soak in a bath, but tonight she wanted to shower quickly so as not to disturb Shirosaki. She squeezed some fruity scented shampoo into her palm and massaged it through the thick raven locks of her hair. Once that was done, she rinsed and cleaned every other inch of her body before turning off the shower and stepping out.

Grabbing a fluffy lavender towel from the towel cupboard, she dried herself off and swiftly dressed in her yellow checkered pajamas. After brushing her teeth, she headed back to her room, noticing that the figure on the couch remained unmoving in the short trek from the bathroom to her room.

Once inside, she picked up the first aid kit and took out the ointment once more. It was surprising to think that the incident with the drunk men had only occurred last night, but it seemed like it had happened so long ago. She applied the ointment to her elbows, which had begun to scab over, and put fresh band aids over it. Her bum still ached from being pushed down, but it was a small pain she could deal with. The ache she could hide, but the band aids on her elbows had been harder to conceal because of the short sleeves of the school uniform. Although her school friends had inquired about them out of simple curiosity, a little white lie about falling down had done the trick. There was no reason for them to mistrust her words, so they had easily accepted the lie.

Brushing her damp locks with her brush, Rukia thought back on her afterschool activity with her friends. She did, she admitted, have fun at the karaoke box. It was her first time seeing anyone behaving so carefree, laughing together and solely having a good time. Her life before this had restricted many things, but since she didn't want to think too hard on that, she thought about school instead. The past few days she had been eating lunch alone with Renji. Her friends hadn't mentioned it nor did they know who she had been meeting with, possibly thinking it was good for her to meet other students besides them. She wondered if tomorrow would be a good time to introduce her childhood friend to her new friends. She was certain they would all get along. After all, Renji was much the same as he had been when he was a child, and she was glad he hadn't changed much – excluding physically, of course. She wanted to get to know Hanatarō better as well. All of these things would take time, but she was willing to take the time to get to know others. It was an exhilarating feeling – being together, laughing together, helping each other. She wanted to experience it more. She wanted to make as many friends as possible. All in all, she just wanted to have a normal life.

Rukia put the brush down and got ready for bed. Tomorrow was another day, and she wanted to be prepared for it like any other day. Usually she tried to get to bed around ten, but the essay had taken her longer than she'd thought. Turning out the lights, she carefully made her way to the bed and snuggled beneath her comforter, closing her eyes. Sleep soon claimed her, making her forget the pale delinquent, who had been staring dreamlessly up at the ceiling in the darkness since he had lain down.

ukia woke to a blaring noise screeching in her ear. She shifted in bed, reluctant to leave the warmth of her comforter, but the insistent beeping of her Chappy-shaped alarm clock forced her to sit up and groggily turn it off.

Yawning widely, she pushed back the tangled locks of her hair and stretched her arms above her head, hearing the satisfying pop of her joints before standing. Gods, she'd slept like a log. As the fuzziness began to fade, Rukia slipped on her Chappy slippers and drowsily made her way to the door.

She opened the door and ambled past the couch, intent on making it to the bathroom to relieve herself, but froze mid-step halfway across the living room. In a flash, she recalled the events from last night. How could she have forgotten? She'd allowed Shirosaki to stay over! Quickly backtracking, Rukia stared at the couch.

He wasn't there.

Frowning and now wide-awake, she walked towards it. Had it been a dream? No, it couldn't be – the blanket and pillow were both there. Raising a short brow, she noted that he hadn't bothered to fold the blanket or even leave a note of thanks. She leaned forward and picked up the rumpled blanket. Any warmth that might have lingered was long gone. Just how early had Shirosaki gotten up? It was only six thirty in the morning! She hadn't pegged him for a morning person, but then again, she barely knew anything about him.

Deciding it would be better to question him at school – if he even bothered to show up – Rukia proceeded with her morning routine. It wouldn't do to be late for school pointlessly worrying over him. Besides, he'd shown he could take care of himself, and maybe his injuries really weren't that bad since he hadn't seemed too concerned about it.

Content with her decision, Rukia simply dropped the blanket back onto the couch and went to the bathroom to get ready for school.

As expected, Shirosaki didn't show up in class once again. None of the teachers seemed overly concerned about his frequent absences, simply skipping his name during roll call. While they were virtually strangers, it was slightly disturbing to Rukia that his existence could be so easily disregarded like that. Maybe it was because she had allowed him to stay over the night, but no one should be treated as if they did not exist. He might be a delinquent, but he was also a student at this school. Shouldn't the faculty be concerned for all of their students? Maybe she was thinking too much on it, Rukia decided. Obviously there were more students than faculty, and they couldn't monitor every single student. Even so, it still bothered her conscience.

"Hellooo? Earth to Rukia!"

Startled, Rukia snapped out of her daze and found herself staring straight into Natsui's face.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Rukia apologized, mentally chiding herself for getting so lost in her thoughts.

"I called your name, like, a gazillion times," Natsui placed her hands on her hips and frowned. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine," Rukia replied automatically.

"We're going to eat lunch on the roof. Did you want to come?" Arisawa asked.

"I'm sorry, I already promised to meet up with someone else," Rukia apologized again. Renji was probably waiting for her in their usual spot under the tree near the track. She'd talk to him today about meeting her school friends.

"Okay. Hanatarō, did you want to eat with us?" Arisawa turned her attention to Hanatarō, who had been quietly sitting in his desk.

"U-um, yes, thank you," he replied in his usual nervous tone.

"I'll see you all after lunch," Rukia told them, smiling at Hanatarō, who shyly smiled back.

Grabbing her box lunch, she left the classroom and headed outside. She easily spotted Renji's tall form as she neared the track, but surprisingly, there were two others standing with him. She made out a bald student that had a wooden sword strapped to his waist – a kendo club member perhaps? – and a shorter student with a black bob haircut – was that feathers attached to his eyelashes? Once they noticed her approach, however, the odd-looking duo said something to Renji and passed by her without so much as a glance.

"Friends of yours?" Rukia asked once they were out of hearing distance.

"Yeah," Renji responded without elaborating.

"Hm," Rukia hummed as she seated herself down on the grass.

Renji followed suit and unwrapped his lunchbox. "How are you liking Karakura so far?"

"Good," Rukia replied honestly. While there had been a couple mishaps, her overall experience had been well.

"Really?" Renji snorted unbelievingly.

Rukia scowled at him. "What? You don't believe me?"

"I do," Renji said as he sipped from his can of juice but didn't sound any less believing.

Rukia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Only with Renji could she really behave naturally, but he could be aggravating.

"What is it?" she demanded, pretending to be annoyed.

Renji placed his can on top of his lunchbox and gazed at her with unexpected somberness, surprising Rukia into dropping her playful act.

"Rukia, if you're ever in trouble, don't hesitate to come to me for help," he said with all seriousness. "I mean it."

Rukia frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Renji merely shrugged. "Just know that I'm here for you if you need me. By the way, is that fried shrimp? Gimme some of that."

"Hey!" Rukia protested, snatching away her lunchbox just before he filched it.

"Stingy," he chuckled and settled back to finish his own lunch.

While she was well aware that Renji had purposely changed topics, Rukia decided to play along. Obviously there was something going on that she didn't know about, or maybe she was just being paranoid. After all, her school friends had even warned her about the potential threats of gangs and such.

They parted ways after Rukia had made Renji promise to meet her new friends the next day. He seemed oddly ill at ease and reluctant to accept, which was unusual. Rukia pondered this as she made her way back to class. Well, they had been parted for several years, so perhaps his personality had changed a bit. When he had been younger, Renji had been gruff but was open and friendly once you got to know him. Maybe she was just thinking too much on it, though.

Shrugging it off, she hurried to class as the second bell began ringing.

"Back already? Din't get yer ass beat enough, Shirosaki?"

"Fuck off," Hichigo responded casually to Nnoitra's sneer as he hefted his sports bag higher on his shoulder once he passed through the gates of Las Noches. He was in a dark mood and he wouldn't mind smashing that leering one-eyed face in if he made another comment.

Unfortunately, the toothpick Espada – ah, excuse him, he meant, Quinto Espada – seemed to notice this and wisely kept his mouth shut, knowing that despite their considerable height difference, Hichigo could beat his skinny ass into next Friday any day of the week despite his injuries. There was a reason Hichigo was the Cero after all. The Quinto was a coward that preyed on weaklings despite his constant boastings, and even Hichigo had enough scrupulousness as to not target someone too weak to fight back.

Ignoring the lanky Espada, Hichigo entered Las Noches, impatiently waiting as the guards searched him and took his bag and Zangetsu before he strode up the stairs. The boss had 'requested' his presence for the meeting as though he hadn't had Hichigo beaten bloody just yesterday. Well, his wounds weren't aching as much as the previous night considering the little doll had applied some weird-smelling shit to his injuries. He would have stayed for more fun, but his own stifling thoughts had driven him to leave that unnaturally homey place as soon as possible and return to the dumpster as his bed buddy. So yeah, he smelled like he'd been wallowing in a huge pile of steaming poo for the last week, but he could care less.

Upon reaching the meeting room, he brusquely shoved the door open and marched inside. Half of the Espada was already gathered, but the boss and his two lackeys had yet to make an appearance. Hichigo ignored everyone else and plopped himself down into the closest chair, which happened to be next to Cuatro Espada.

"It seems you do not even have the intelligence to defecate yourself properly, trash," Ulquiorra stated blandly.

Hichigo turned to face the thin, black-haired Espada and said evenly, "Go fuck yourself."

Ulquiorra merely gazed back at him without a blink. Hichigo snorted, crossing his arms behind his head and leaned back in the chair. He wasn't interested in exchanging pleasantries with the Cuatro at the moment because at the moment, he wanted to fucking rip Aizen's eyeballs out and shove it where the sun don't shine. Well, this wasn't an uncommon urge he had, so he merely closed his eyes and waited for the boss to appear.

Soon enough, the rest of the Espada filed into the room and took their seats. No one spoke to each other because frankly, no one in this goddamned room gave a flipping shit about each other. And the wait was only contributing to Hichigo's already black mood.

Finally, a couple minutes later, Aizen entered the room with Ichimaru and Tousen in tow.

"Good afternoon," he said pleasantly as he seated himself.

Not a single greeting was offered back, but the boss didn't particularly care anyways. Hichigo was forced to wait another ten minutes as the maid entered with her little cart and served everyone tea that no one but Aizen drank at the meetings. Hichigo hated tea.

They waited in muted silence with only the sound of clinking China as Aizen stirred a couple cubes of sugar into his damn tea. Hichigo was tempted to grab his cup of tea – along with the little plate and maybe even the entire fucking table as well – and chuck the entire thing at him, but he refrained himself and glowered beneath his hood. He belatedly realized his ribs were starting a dull ache – it was where those damn fairies had kicked him the most – and the chair was uncomfortable as hell. Or maybe it was just him. Hell, he didn't know, and he just wanted to get this over with so he could go and find some poor soul to beat the stuffing out of so he could relieve some stress.

Aizen began the meeting. Through it all, Hichigo stared listlessly out the window partially blocked by Yammy's huge head. However, a couple strings of words caught his attention, and he abruptly turned his attention to Aizen.

"What?"

The single, sharp word snapped through Aizen's speech like a whiplash, pausing him midsentence. Everyone turned their gazes to him, but he ignored everyone else except for the boss's knowing stare.

"I see you weren't paying attention, Hichigo-kun," Aizen admonished.

"Who gives a shit?" Hichigo growled impatiently. "What did ya just say?"

Aizen smiled, seeming more amused than anything else. "As I said before, the Soul Reapers have allied themselves with the Vizards. In response, the Xcution group has requested our forces, and I have decided it would work well in our favor."

Hichigo stared at him in disbelief, feeling bubbling rage fester deep in the pit of his stomach. Oh, hell no he didn't just say that!

"Hell no," he snarled aloud, abruptly standing and slamming his palm with a resounding smack! against the surface of the table. "In fact, fuck no! I ain't gonna work with those fuckers from that shit gang!"

"Language, Hichigo-kun," Aizen lightly reprimanded, not looking the least bit perturbed by Hichigo's outburst.

"Fuck language!" Hichigo spat. The rage in his belly was turning into a sickening queasiness, which wasn't helping his aching ribs or the already black mood he was in.

"Hichigo-kun, please sit down."

The bland tone Aizen used cut through his fury like ice, and he didn't miss the underlying steely venom in the gentle reproach. Fuming and far more pissed than he had ever felt, Hichigo reluctantly squelched down his wrath and leveled Aizen with a killing glare. He sat back down, his fist clenched so hard it shook.

"Thank you, Hichigo-kun. Now, as I was saying…"

The rest of Aizen's words were lost to Hichigo. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Of all gangs, Aizen knew Hichigo loathed the Xcution gang the most. That bitch had probably accepted the offer because he knew the effect it would have on Hichigo since the Hollows didn't need any allies to take down those pussy Soul Reapers and Vizards.

He gnashed his teeth together, hating that he knew he had no other choice but to go along with it and wishing to hell that Aizen and the Xcution gang were slowly and painfully rotting in Hell.

Hichigo's mood didn't improve. In fact, it got even worse.

After lazing about at Starrk's and trading caustic banters with Lilynette for a week, Hichigo decided it was time to go to school again. Trying to find a decent fight had been harder than he'd thought since everyone ran away whenever he got near. If the boss hadn't banned the Espada from fighting each other, he probably would have already relieved some of the stress that had been weighing down on him.

Hell, he was ready to throw aside whatever marginal amount of morals he held and pound in the next person's face he saw, weak or not. Damned Aizen had been keeping quiet for the last week, and for some reason, that made Hichigo edgy. All of those useless meetings and suddenly none. Hichigo hated going to those, but the boss's inactiveness over the last week was disturbing. He knew Aizen was scheming something – he was always scheming something – but he didn't seem inclined to let any of the Espada know.

Or at least, Hichigo didn't know, and he was getting tired of the little games Aizen was playing. Just why did Aizen tolerate his disobedience so much? It was getting a little disturbing, and that was saying a lot from Hichigo. Yeah, he'd tested the limits and gotten punished for overstepping them, but Hichigo sensed the punishment had no real meaning other than to keep the other Espada in line. Which meant he got beaten for no good reason. Which also meant that he still hadn't reached the limit of Aizen's little game of tolerance towards him. And that meant Hichigo still had no idea what the boss was planning, so as a result, he was irritated, a little creeped out, and in a shitty mood.

The only good thing was that his wounds were mostly healed up and no longer bothered him. Not that it had bothered him much before, though.

As the school entrance came into view, he spotted Grimmjow standing in front of it with two others. Normally Hichigo wouldn't have cared, but upon seeing who the blue-head was with gave him a pause just before he cracked a wide grin. Now here he could start relieving some of that stress.

Lo and behold were two members of the Soul Reaper gang – two seniors at Karakura high – currently engaged in a heated debate with Grimmjow. A bald, wooden sword-wielding punk and a narcissistic priss who he'd encountered several times before. Since it was lunchtime now, students were loitering outside. Most had noticed the tense atmosphere, staying a fair distance away while looking wary but curious.

"Yo, Grimm. Ya leavin' some fun for me?" Hichigo called as he drew near.

Grimmjow glanced at him with a scowl. "Don't call me that, whitey. This ain't any of yer business."

"I think it is," Hichigo responded playfully, eyeing the two Soul Reapers with maniac glee. These little shits were gonna be in the hospital for the next month if they managed to put up a good fight.

Seeming to recognize the look in his eyes, Grimmjow merely snorted but didn't tell him to back off again.

"Huh, looks like there's another one," the bald Soul Reaper stated, sliding his wooden sword out of his belt loop. "Now it looks fair. Aren't we lucky, Yumichika?"

"You're right, Ikkaku," the Soul Reaper with the sissy bob-cut replied flippantly.

"Cut the crap. Let's brawl." Hichigo tossed his sports bag to the side and cracked his knuckles.

"Ya were here last – I'm first!" Grimmjow cut in before he could advance.

"Fuck that. Whoever gets 'em first, gets 'em first!" Hichigo argued, pushing him back.

Losing his patience, Grimmjow grabbed a fistful of Hichigo's collar and snarled, "Either back off or I'll fucking beat your ass first!"

"Did ya wanna try, Sexta?" Hichigo goaded, no longer caring about the boss's damned rules. Fuck the rules. When did he ever follow them anyways?

"Hey, this won't work if you guys fight each other," the bald Soul Reaper called from where he stood just before one of them could throw a punch.

Both Grimmjow and Hichigo turned to look at the bored-looking Soul Reapers before looking back at each other, debating on the best choice. They had a glaring contest for a minute before Grimmjow slowly released his grip on Hichigo's shirt and took a step back.

"Don't get in my way, whitey," the blue-head warned.

"Right back at ya, Grimmy," Hichigo shot back.

Grimmjow bared his sharp-looking canines, not liking this nickname any better than the other, but a movement from their rivals brought his attention to them.

"Finally ready now?" the bald Soul Reaper smirked, swinging his wooden sword towards them.

"Ready when ya are," Hichigo replied, grinning with uninhibited eagerness. Oh yeah, he was getting rid of that stress right this moment.

The week had been uneventful for the most part but the normal schooldays were enough for Rukia. In fact, she loved her plain, boring, ordinary routine of getting up in the morning, going to school, seeing her friends, and being a normal student. Why would anyone dislike a life like this? It was incomprehensible to her.

So when lunchtime arrived, she was both disappointed and happy. Disappointed because it meant half of the school day was over and happy because she could chat with her friends. And today Renji was supposed to meet her friends, having agreed to meet them on the rooftop during lunch. He had made multiple excuses since he had first promised, apologizing profusely but refusing to give a reason. Needless to say, if Renji skipped out on this again, Rukia was not going to be happy. Her school friends were curious to see her mystery friend, and a week had passed since she had made Renji promise her.

He's going to pay if he misses this time,Rukia decided as she put away her notebook and picked up her lunchbox. Next to her, Hanatarō did the same. They walked to the front of the classroom where their friends had gathered in preparation to go to the rooftop. Noticing the various array of expressions they held – different than their usual variety of expressions – Rukia surmised something must be off.

"Is something wrong?" she asked curiously once she reached them.

"Orihime says she has a boyfriend!" Natsui squealed excitedly at the same time Honshō said with disdain.

Said girl blushed and grinned goofily. "It's not that big of a deal."

"Just tell us who he is," Arisawa asserted with a silent, so I can beat the crap out of him.

Inoue giggled uncertainly, sensing her friend's overprotectiveness. "Um, maybe I'll introduce you all later…"

"Let's guess!" Natsui suggested excitedly.

"Why don't you give us some hints?" Kunieda put in, showing interest for the first time since Rukia had met her. "Where did you meet him?"

"Um, a couple months ago, after I went shopping for groceries," Inoue confessed, smiling with a light blush.

"Months?" Natsui, Honshō, and Arisawa exclaimed in unison.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Arisawa asked.

"My poor Hime-chan has been defiled!" Honshō wailed.

Inoue looked apologetically at Arisawa, attempting to calm an over-excited Natsui down as well as a distraught Honshō. Rukia noted the hurt expression Arisawa tried to hide by looking annoyed at Natsui and Honshō. Sensing the awkwardness the situation may turn in to, she decided it was time to intervene.

"I'm sure Inoue had a good reason," Rukia said pleasantly, keeping a peaceable smile in place.

"O-oh, yeah!" Inoue exclaimed, looking gratefully at Rukia. "I didn't mean to keep it a secret! In fact, I'll introduce you guys to him soon!"

"Really?" Natsui piped up. "What does he look like?"

"Um, well, he's…" Inoue put a finger to her lips in thought before she brightened. "He's very handsome! And he has black hair. He's a little thin, but I'm certain some of my cooking can fix that! And he—"

Suddenly, a loud shout sounded, bringing conversations to an abrupt halt as everyone curiously turned to look towards the noise. Pounding feet could be heard down the hallway, and Asano Keigo, the class clown, suddenly burst into the room with a half-excited, half-frightened look on his face.

"Fight!" he yelled. "The Hollows and the Soul Reapers are fighting in the school yard!"

There was a split second of silence following the announcement before chairs scraped back and everyone scrambled to the door. Rukia watched in astonishment as half of the class hurried out of the classroom.

"Let's go watch the fight!" Natsui said, standing as well.

"Might as well," Kunieda conceded.

"But—" Honshō protested but was dragged away by Arisawa.

Rukia followed them out as well with Hanatarō trailing behind her. Though she wasn't interested in the fight, she was curious if the Hollows fighting involved a certain albino delinquent who she hadn't seen since last week.

They reached the school entrance, now crowded by curious students. The girls managed to squeeze through to the front without much trouble. Rukia dodged a few elbows before she spotted several people standing in the clearing. She recognized Shirosaki right away, as well as the blue-haired Hollow member who she'd spotted in the hallways several times. Facing them were two other students. They looked vaguely familiar before she recognized them as Renji's friends she'd glimpsed last week. Renji's friends were in a gang? And in the Soul Reaper gang no less! No wonder he hadn't wanted her to know about them – she would have berated him until his ears bled about the dangerous people he hung out with. And she certainly would when she saw him next time!

"Those two are seniors – Madarame Ikkaku and Ayasegawa Yumichika," Arisawa pointed out the bald student and the student with the odd feather accessories. "They're in the Soul Reaper gang."

Rukia nodded in acknowledgement. Over the past couple weeks, her friends had pointed out a few gang members to her – mostly out of concern so she didn't accidentally involve herself in gang matters. Although she was comfortable in this town, she was now well-aware the gang issue was no small matter, and since she didn't want to involve herself in any troublesome situations, she wisely took her friends' advice.

Turning her attention to a particular hot-tempered Hollow member, who seemed quite gleeful to be in this situation, Rukia admitted to herself that she probably hadn't been as wise as she'd like to think. And considering how healthy and un-bruised he looked, his wounds were pretty much gone.

"Hey guys, let's go back," Honshō spoke up. "I don't really want to watch these guys beat each other up."

"M-me, too," Ogawa added.

Before anyone else could say anything, the crowd of students surged forward in their eagerness to witness the fight, pushing them off balance. Rukia managed to catch herself before she fell, glimpsing a blur of white catching the bald Soul Reaper off guard. Despite their excitement, the students stayed a good distance away even while they cheered and jeered.

"A-are you okay, Rukia-san?"

Seeking the source of the voice, Rukia spotted Hanatarō worriedly trying to push his way towards her, but was unsuccessful as he was easily pushed back. She stood and managed to catch on to his wrist and pull him forward. Her strength must have surprised him because he yelped and stumbled awkwardly before Rukia helped him right himself.

"I'm fine. Are you okay, Hanatarō?" she asked.

He nodded in response, looking embarrassed. "Th-thank you, Rukia-san."

"No problem," she replied before she glanced about, finding her friends standing a couple feet away. Seeing that they were fine, she turned towards the ongoing fight. The Soul Reapers were on the defensive. Shirosaki and the blue-haired Hollow were forcing them back but the Soul Reapers weren't giving up. Rukia winced in sympathy when Shirosaki landed a particularly painful-looking hit in one of the Soul Reaper's gut. He doubled over but tackled Shirosaki as he fell, causing them both to tumble to the ground.

"Why aren't the teachers stopping them?" Rukia wondered aloud.

"Th-the teachers don't want to get involved," Hanatarō answered helpfully. "They usually l-let them go at it until th-they're done."

Rukia looked at him and then at the scuffle in astonishment. Even if they were gang members, they were still students at this school! How could the teachers let their students beat each other up right in the school yard without trying to stop them? And none of the other students seemed to care, either, too eager to see the fight.

She saw the blue-haired Hollow slam his fist into the Soul Reaper with the bob-cut's face with a sickening sound. Without a thought, she stepped forward. There was no way she was going to watch this without doing anything!

"What are you doing, Rukia-san?" Hanatarō exclaimed in alarm.

Just as she was about to reply, shouts behind the crowd caught her attention. Now what? she wondered.

"Move it! Get out of my way!"

Hearing that familiar voice, Rukia strained to catch a glimpse of the owner of the voice. Being taller than most students, it wasn't hard to see Renji's bright crimson hair bobbing through the crowd. He pushed his way through, eyes trained on the fight in front of them, not even noticing that Rukia stood in front of him.

"Renji!" she said just before he would have shoved her out of the way as well.

He paused and glanced down, eyes widening in surprise. "Rukia! What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing?" she demanded, ignoring his question.

"I…" he hesitated, glancing at the fight before looking back at her with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, Rukia."

"What?" she managed to say just before he dashed forward straight into the clearing where the gang members were fighting. "Renji!"

She watched, stunned, as her childhood friend raced in and threw his fist into Shirosaki's face without hesitation. Shirosaki stumbled back, and Renji turned and reached down to help up the fallen Soul Reaper, but the Soul Reaper slapped his hand away and stood by himself. The Soul Reaper – hadn't Arisawa called him Madarame or something? – seemed to say something to Renji, who argued back. They were quickly drawn back into the fight, however, and Rukia could only watch in utter confusion.

"Um, Rukia-san, do you know Abarai-san?" Hanatarō questioned behind her.

Rukia glanced back at him, furrowing her brows. "You know him?"

Hanatarō nodded. "He's part of the Soul Reaper gang."

Rukia stared at him. Renji? Part of the Soul Reaper gang? But…he never said anything. Suddenly, it hit Rukia. His reluctance to tell her about his friends, his excuses in avoiding meeting her friends, and his apology before he dove into the fight.

He hadn't wanted her to know about him.

"Renji…" she murmured, unable to comprehend what she felt at the moment. Hurt? Betrayal? Worry? She wasn't sure, but at the moment, she just knew that she couldn't continue to sit by and watch quietly while her childhood friend quickly became bloodied and bruised.

"W-wait, please, Rukia-san!" Hanatarō cried when she started forward determinedly. "Y-you can't go!"

"I can't just do nothing," Rukia told him without looking back.

"B-but…" Hanatarō trailed off before he hurried to catch up with her. "I-I'll g-go t-too!"

Rukia glanced at him in surprise, seeing the paleness of his face and how his whole body trembled with his voice. He was obviously terrified, but his courageousness was admirable. She nodded curtly and was just about to leave the crowd when someone grabbed a hold of her upper arm. Thinking it was Hanatarō, she turned only to find herself staring at a broad chest. Blinking, she craned her head up to see a face full of scars and tattoos.

"Don't," he simply said. "It's not safe for you."

Rukia felt a frown pull at her mouth, about to demand him to let go, but before she could speak, another voice spoke up.

"Leave it, Hisagi. We have more important things to do," a tall, yakuza-looking student with sunglasses said.

"I know, Iba-san," the student called Hisagi answered, letting go of Rukia's arm.

Without another word, the two students walked into the clearing towards the fight. Stunned once again, Rukia stared at their backs and looked at Hanatarō, who looked back at her with a slightly frightened look.

"Th-that w-was H-Hisagi Shuhei-san a-and I-Iba T-Tetsuzaemon-san," he quavered. "Th-they're Soul R-Reapers, t-too."

"But…he looks old." Was all Rukia could think of to say.

Hanatarō blinked, probably not expecting that. "I-Iba-san is a r-repeat student for th-three years…"

"Ah," Rukia nodded in understanding before looking again back at the scuffle. Well…now her determination was more confused than anything else. She watched as the two new Soul Reaper members entered the fray. Surprisingly, the one called Iba caught Madarame's fist before it could hit the blue-haired Hollow and easily tossed his comrade backwards. Similarly, the one called Hisagi stopped Renji and the other Soul Reaper called Ayasegawa. Rukia looked at Hanatarō quizzically, who looked back at her with the same expression of bewilderment. What was going on?

They were too far away to hear what was being said, but it was clear that Iba and Hisagi were breaking up the fight. The two Hollows paused, seeming to recognize that they were outnumbered five to two. Shirosaki, on the other hand, seemed keen to keep on going because he shouted a few words that Rukia managed to catch consisting of 'pussies', 'scared', and 'weak' along with more colorful word choices, appearing to want goad the Soul Reapers into another fight. The blue-haired Hollow whose name she couldn't recall simply remained standing in a tense stance. He spoke a few words to Shirosaki, who seemed to ignore him at first. Wishing she could hear what they were saying, Rukia watched along with the other students as a few more terse words were exchanged and suddenly the Soul Reapers were walking towards the crowd of students while the Hollows were leaving in the opposite direction.

Apparently, the fight was over. Disinterested, most of the students dispersed just as the bell signaling that lunch was over rung, leaving a wide birth between them and the returning Soul Reapers. Rukia spotted a bloody and bruised Renji being supported by Hisagi while Iba supported the other two. Concerned, she began to go to him when he caught her eye and gave a slight shake of his head before looking away. She paused briefly, surprised at his rejection. A light touch on her arm startled her into looking away from the Soul Reapers to Hanatarō's anxious face.

"Y-you can't, Rukia-san," he said. "I-if you get involved, y-you could get in trouble."

Rukia hesitated. She had told herself she didn't want to be involved in any troublesome situations, but Renji was her friend. She couldn't just leave him when he was injured like this.

"Rukia! Hanatarō!"

Seeing the girls approaching, Rukia looked one last time at the Soul Reapers leading her childhood friend away before she looked back at her school friends. If she left Renji like this, she would regret it forever.

"Sorry, but I have to go," she apologized before hurrying towards the Soul Reapers and leaving her friends gaping behind her. How could she call herself a friend if she ignored the state Renji was in?

She caught up to them easily, ignoring the students meandering about around them and eyeing her with interest upon seeing who she was running after.

"Renji!" she called.

Renji stopped, forcing Hisagi to stop as well. Her tall red-headed friend looked behind his shoulder, eyes widening when he saw her.

"What are you doing, Rukia?" he asked in shock.

"I'm concerned about my friend," she told him haughtily. Did he think that she would simply abandon him? The nerve of him!

"Don't get involved," he warned, struggling to turn to face her with Hisagi's help. "It's too dangerous for you."

"If it's dangerous for me, then it's dangerous for you as well," Rukia shot back.

"Rukia…" Renji faltered, looking pained. He glanced at his Soul Reaper companions and the students who had stopped to watch curiously before looking back at her. "Look, I'll talk to you later, okay? I'm sorry."

"Renji—" Rukia began, but he had already started to limp away with Hisagi's help. The pained look he had had and his apologetic words rooted her to the spot. She was unable to do anything else but simply watch as they entered the school building, feeling both useless and hurt.

"Hey, Kuchiki!" Natsui called, hurrying over to her with the rest of her friends. "Are you okay? What was that all about? Did the Soul Reapers do something to you?"

"Fine. I'm fine. It's nothing – they didn't do anything," Rukia replied almost absently.

"Um, Kuchiki-san, was the friend you wanted to introduce to us one of them?" Inoue questioned.

Rukia blinked and looked up at her friends, who were all watching her curiously. "Yes. His name is Abarai Renji. He's my childhood friend."

"Oh, a childhood friend! That's so sweet!" Inoue gasped.

"Sweet but he's part of the Soul Reaper gang," Arisawa interrupted before Inoue could get excited. "I understand he's your friend, but I would advise you to avoid him. Nothing good will come from being near him."

At that, Rukia cut her a sharp look. "You mean to abandon him?"

Surprised at the sudden change from her usual mild-mannered personality, Arisawa put both hands up in surrender. "I'm looking out for you as a friend and because I've seen what happens when someone gets too involved in gang matters. I don't want the same thing to happen to you."

Realizing she might have been too harsh in her tone, Rukia tempered down her irritation and nodded. "Thank you for your concern. I apologize for snapping at you."

Arisawa nodded in turn. "That's okay. Sorry for telling you this, but I still stand by my words."

Rukia didn't reply, knowing that Arisawa was only concerned for her well-being but Rukia didn't necessarily have to agree with her. Seeming to understand, Arisawa said nothing more of it either.

The group was surprisingly quiet from their usual everyday din as they walked into class late. Ochi-sensei had already managed to calm the excited class down from watching the fight by the time they arrived. Ochi-sensei heckled them briefly for their tardiness but began their daily lesson right away as if the fight had never occurred, and for once, Rukia stared blankly out the window instead of studiously taking notes.

fter the last bell rang, Rukia quickly gathered her school materials and stuffed them in her schoolbag. She was going to corner Renji and interrogate him if it was the last thing she did! The last few hours of school had been torturously slow but it had given her enough time to think things through.

Yes, she admittedly was hurt that he had kept things from her, but she understood he had been trying to protect her when he pushed her away. Besides, she was concerned about his injuries as well. The two Hollows had not taken it easy on the Soul Reapers despite the uneven numbers, and she could only wonder what had been said to stop the fight so quickly.

"Wh-where are you going, Rukia-san?" Hanatarō asked from beside her.

"To check on a friend," Rukia answered, picking up her schoolbag and standing.

"Is it A-Abarai-san?" Hanatarō inquired anxiously.

"Yes," Rukia said without hesitation. Gang member or not, she was not ashamed to call Renji her friend.

Hanatarō looked at her worriedly for a second before he quickly stood from his desk as well. "I-I'll g-go w-with y-you!"

Once again, Rukia was surprised. His small appearance and anxious personality belied his hidden courageousness. But she shouldn't judge anyone upon appearance, Rukia admitted, since the same could be said about her. Even so, she couldn't let Hanatarō come with her.

"Thank you, Hanatarō, but you should stay," Rukia told him firmly. "I'll be fine."

"B-but, Rukia-san—"

Although she felt bad, she knew it was the safer choice. Obviously, no one in Karakura wanted to associate themselves with gang members, but Rukia didn't care – especially if it involved a friend. And she didn't want someone as gentle and timid as Hanatarō to get into trouble.

"I'll see you all tomorrow," Rukia said to her friends as she passed by them.

"Huh? Rukia—!"

Ignoring the calls, she hurried out of the classroom. Renji was a junior – a year older than her and her friends – so his classes were in a different section of the school, meaning she rarely saw him during the school days except when they made plans to meet up during lunch. Once she reached his classroom, she was surprised to find the Soul Reaper members that had been involved in the fight outside the door. Despite the fact that two of them were bandaged up, they didn't seem overly concerned about their injuries, which made her think of a certain albino delinquent who had had a similar response. Was it a gang thing or something?

Rukia slowed her pace and cautiously approached. They might be Renji's friends, but she didn't know any of them.

"Hm? You're that girl from earlier," the one called Iba spoke up when he noticed her.

"Renji's girlfriend, eh?" the bald one known as Madarame said.

"Renji's girlfriend?" Yumichika – she remembered – asked curiously.

"I'm not—" Rukia began to deny, but was interrupted when Renji appeared with Hisagi in the doorway.

"Rukia! What are you doing here?" Renji exclaimed when he saw her.

Crossing her arms, Rukia leveled him with an even look, deciding to disregard his friends' misconception about them for now. "To talk to you, obviously."

"Whipped already, Renji?" Madarame snickered, causing the other Soul Reapers to chuckle.

Renji flushed and scowled at them. "Shut up. It's not like that."

Rolling her eyes at their immaturity, Rukia concluded that gang members or not, these guys were just like any other pig-headed male.

"Renji," she said, putting all of her questions into that one word.

Recognizing the tone of her voice, Renji rubbed the back of his tattooed neck and looked at his Soul Reaper friends. "Uh, I'll meet up with you guys later, okay?"

"Sure thing. Take your time," Madarame said smugly, probably implying things that Rukia didn't think were appropriate at the moment.

"A relationship is a beautiful thing, isn't it, Ikkaku?" Yumichika tittered as they walked away.

Rukia didn't hear Madarame's reply because she had her attention on her childhood friend, who, at the moment, was standing awkwardly and trying not to look directly at her by staring over her head – which wasn't really that hard to do anyway.

Rukia, on the other hand, studied him silently. The left side of his face was bruised and swelling. He had a black eye as well and multiple other injuries she probably couldn't see. In fact, he looked even worse than Shirosaki did when she had found him behind the dumpster.

"Are you alright, Renji?" Rukia inquired.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied.

"I see."

Silence.

"Uh, did you wanna talk somewhere else?" Renji finally asked, looking exceedingly uncomfortable under Rukia's penetrating stare.

"Lead the way," she invited without moving.

"Okay," he mumbled, shuffling away from the classroom entrance.

Rukia followed him through the hallway out the back entrance of the school towards their usual lunch meeting spot. This time she wasn't going to allow him to get away – she was going to get all of the answers she needed, and Renji was going to learn a very valuable lesson in keeping things from Kuchiki Rukia.

"Aw, did ya boys get hurt?"

"Fuck off, Ichimaru," Grimmjow snarled, shoving past the smiling silver-haired man.

"Now, Now, I was just worried," Ichimaru chided, not looking the least bit concerned over their new set of injuries. "Grimm-kun is such a grumpy pants, ain't he, Shiro-kun?"

Hichigo snorted. 'Grumpy' wasn't the word to describe the ill-tempered blue-head, especially when he was injured. Well…the same could be said for Hichigo himself, he supposed, but he was feeling much too pleased to be in a bad mood. Heck, he got to punch in three Soul Reapers' faces! Who wouldn't be happy after that? Well, he was just a tad bit irritated that the fight had ended too soon. He would have kept going had Grimmjow not informed him that the boss had called for another meeting. Hichigo hadn't even realized that his phone had been ringing during the fight, and he doubted he would have even cared if he had been alone.

Admittedly, he had been a little curious. After a week of absence, now the boss wanted the Espada to gather. And Aizen had better have something good or Hichigo was going to be more than a little irritated that his fight got interrupted.

He walked into the meeting room, seeing that the boss was already seated in his chair with a cup of tea.

"I see you were involved in a scuffle, Grimmjow-kun, Hichigo-kun," Aizen stated when he seated himself next to Ulquiorra. "The Soul Reapers, I assume?"

"Who else?" Hichigo said sardonically while Grimmjow glowered at him.

"I hope you both were not injured too badly," Aizen murmured as he sipped his tea. "It would not do to have you disabled before we begin the operation."

Hichigo snorted to himself but didn't reply, knowing that those words held a small warning to not cause any more trouble than he already had. He settled comfortably into the cushioned chair, ready to stare aimlessly out the window until Aizen said something that would interest him.

Unfortunately, that moment came too soon.

"Good afternoon, comrades. I called you all here because a representative from the Xcution group arrived today."

Hichigo sharply turned to stare at Aizen in shock. What the hell did he just say?

"Please bring him in, Gin," Aizen said.

Ichimaru, who was still standing by the door, opened it. The person who walked in immediately caught Hichigo's attention. Oh, fuck no.

"Hello, everyone. I am Tsukishima Shukuro from Xcution," the tall, slender man said, eyeing them with a pleasant but coldly distant look on his face.

"YA FUCKING BASTARD!"

Without warning, Hichigo rushed him, knocking over his chair in the process. His vision turned red with rage, uncaring that Aizen was present, or anyone else for that matter. The only one in his line of vision was that fucking shit Tsukishima, the one who he wanted to fucking kill above all else.

His fist made contact with Tsukishima's cheek with a sickening thud, sending the bastard flying out into the hallway. Instinct made him reach to his side, where he usually kept Zangetsu strapped and hidden beneath his clothes, but upon recalling that his precious blade was confined in the damned safe, he settled for his fists. Fuck, he'd beat that slimy fucking shit's face into a pulp and strangle him to death if he had to.

However, just before he made it to where Tsukishima was struggling to get up, someone grabbed his shoulder from behind. Hichigo twisted around, about to pummel whoever the fuck it was, but a sudden blow to his gut caused him to double over and fall to his knees, gasping for breath.

"Settle down, now, Shiro-kun." Ichimaru, that equally slimy bastard who had just casually knocked the wind out of Hichigo, peered down at him with narrowed, amused eyes. Hichigo glimpsed a flash of icy blue before Ichimaru's eyes closed into slits once again.

"Fuck." Was all Hichgo could manage to gasp out, his ribs still tender from his fight not even two hours ago. Not to mention that they weren't completely healed from his punishment, and now that silver-haired fuck had just added another bruise to it.

"Ya okay, representative-san?" Ichimaru inquired, looking more curious than concerned.

"I'm fine. That was quite a greeting," Tsukishima replied, getting to his feet with a slick smile upturning his thin lips as he brushed off his clothes.

Seeing that, Hichigo jolted forwards, intending on finishing what he started, but Ichimaru placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. Despite his thin appearance, the painful pressure digging into his shoulder indicated Ichimaru wouldn't hesitate to dislocate it if Hichigo got too out of hand. At the moment, Hichigo wouldn't have cared if Ichimaru had broken it – his desire to kill Tsukishima in the most painful way possible overrode his rationality. If it hadn't been for that fucking slimy shit, Hichigo wouldn't have been—

"Thank you, Gin. Please sit down, Hichigo-kun."

Hichigo froze at Aizen's voice, shattering the murderous aura about him. He knew that tone in the boss's voice. Struggling for some semblance of calm, Hichigo laid furious eyes on Tsukishima.

"I'm going to kill ya," he promised.

Tsukishima merely smiled in response, but the dead faraway look never left his eyes. Resisting the urge to strangle him was quite a feat for Hichigo, but he somehow managed it, shaking off Ichimaru's hand and standing on his own. He partially limped back to his fallen chair, the good mood that he had been in for a couple hours completely eradicated, sucked into the black hole churning in his gut. It was a sickening feeling – one that he had lived with for far too long.

And the cause had been none other than Tsukishima.

One year ago, if that event had never occurred, Hichigo wouldn't have cared about the miniscule Xcution gang at all. He wouldn't be ignoring those calls on his phone every day. He probably wouldn't be skipping school as much. He wouldn't be eking his life out crashing over at Starrk's or sleeping on the streets when he didn't feel like being near anyone. Fuck, he knew killing Tsukishima wouldn't solve anything – it wouldn't undo what had occurred a year ago – but it would give him some measure of satisfaction that one slimy bastard was gone from the world.

But he couldn't.

Because of Aizen.

So he silently steamed in his seat, not taking his eyes off Tsukishima as he casually sauntered back into the room and stood beside Aizen. Not even the sight of the dark bruise forming on his cheek made Hichigo feel better. Instead, he clenched his fist, wishing he had Zangetsu in his hand – no, rather, in Tsukishima's gut. Yeah, that sounded a lot better.

"Forgive Hichigo-kun, Tsukishima-san," Aizen apologized pleasantly. "He is a bit unruly."

"So I see," Tsukishima acknowledged in spite of knowing exactly why he had been attacked without warning.

Hichigo glowered at them. Aizen knew why as well – which was probably why he had allied with the Xcution gang. And he knew that this was the boss's way of riling him up but keeping control over him as well. Fucking bastards, he thought bitterly, furiously, promising himself that one day he would wipe both of them out of existence. But not now. It would take time, and despite his impatience, Hichigo knew he was no match against Aizen. Not until he could catch him off guard. Until then, he would wait.

"So let me get this straight," Rukia said, rubbing her temples tiredly. "You joined the Soul Reaper gang three years ago after your mother passed away along with your friends?"

"Just me, Ikkaku, and Yumichika. Hisagi and Iba were already in the gang before we were," Renji corrected.

"Right," Rukia murmured, trying to recall everything Renji had told her during the hour she had interrogated him. "So the gang numbers increased around the time you joined?"

"Yeah. Apparently some yakuza boss arrived in Karakura about three years ago. He rounded up a few small gangs and turned them into the Hollows. They grew so big that some other gangs eventually had to team up to protect themselves. That's also around the time when the Soul Reapers's numbers grew, too. Now we have about the same numbers as the Hollows, so they see us as the biggest threat."

"Hm," Rukia hummed in understanding. That made sense. "Is your, er, boss a yakuza too?"

Renji nodded. "He got some gangs together as a defensive force when the Hollows became too threatening to ignore."

"I see. But now both gangs are going to battle it out soon, right?"

Renji hesitated, seeming to debate on how much to tell her. However, one look from Rukia had him changing his mind instantly.

"Yeah," he admitted reluctantly.

"Why hasn't it occurred earlier?"

"There wasn't anything to trigger a big turf war. Now that both gangs have allied themselves with another gang, tension's spiked up. We're all just waiting until someone makes the first move."

Rukia frowned. "Why's that?"

"Each big gang has a base or something similar. We can't leave it undefended because the boss is usually hanging out around there."

Rukia fell silent as she absorbed this. Apparently being in a gang was more complex than she'd thought – or, at least a gang that was involved with the yakuza.

"Can't you just leave?" she asked.

Renji shook his head. "Not without consequences – and trust me, it won't be pretty."

Again, Rukia fell silent. She knew something about gangs to an extent – but that was only what she saw in the movies and read in books. From what Renji had told her so far, the gangs in Karakura had a complex system, and getting out of it would likely not be easy.

"Okay, I'll let you off for now," she said, standing up. She needed more time to digest this information. Whether he wanted it or not, she was going to figure out a way to get her friend out of this situation. It sounded far too dangerous for anyone to be in. "It's getting late."

Renji stood as well. "I'll walk you home."

"No need," she brushed him off, leaning down to pick up her schoolbag.

"I'll walk you home," he insisted. "It's…not safe."

"I walk home every day by myself," she reminded him.

"Yeah, but people saw you talking to me earlier," Renji said. "They might…take it the wrong way. I don't want you hurt."

Rukia realized he was only worried. She smiled slightly. The big lug, she thought fondly.

"Okay," she conceded. "But I know you live in the opposite direction, so you can only come halfway."

"But—" he began to protest.

"It will be dark by the time we get there," she told him. "It's dangerous."

A small smile pulled at his mouth. "I should be saying that to you."

Rukia chuckled. "Right. Let's go."

By the time Tsukishima left, Hichigo's mind was in chaos. The meaning 'so close yet so far' was suddenly clear to him. Tsukishima had only been a few feet away, yet he had done nothing except fume and glower with his desire to commit a bloody crime that would probably throw him in jail for the rest of his life.

Every second in that room had been pure torture – the memories he had suppressed for a year had resurfaced in its most ugly form from seeing that face again. It didn't help that Starrk had gazed at him almost pityingly, knowing the situation between him and Tsukishima. And it was even more humiliating that Grimmjow had looked at him with a blank expression, no pity or even acknowledgment – simply a stare that knew everything because the Sexta had been present when that had happened. Fuck, even that dipshit Quinto had been there that day, and his leer, despite never leaving his face, was avoiding looking directly at Hichigo, possibly sensing that any little thing could trigger him into a rage.

Once Aizen dismissed the Espada, Hichigo abruptly stood, intending to leave as quickly as possible and find some place to be alone for a few hours. Unfortunately, his luck had been shitty for a while.

"Hichigo-kun, please stay," Aizen intervened before he could even take a step.

Hichigo's whole body tensed up upon hearing that hated voice. He refused to turn until the last Espada left along with Ichimaru and Tousen.

There was a long silence before Hichigo turned to face Aizen. They stared at each other silently. Beneath his hood, Hichigo could feel the skin around his eyes straining, the blood rushing to his head and roaring in his ears, yet he stayed completely still, waiting for Aizen to speak.

"Are you alright, Hichigo-kun?" Aizen inquired, his tone mild and his countenance of a concerned father.

Hichigo merely looked at him. Aizen already knew, that bastard. He was merely playing with Hichigo, as if testing the waters to see if he would snap. But Hichigo wouldn't play into his game – not this time. No, he was going to endure this and leave this oppressive presence as soon as he could. But fuck, if Aizen insisted on pushing him—

"I seem to have upset you," he murmured, picking up his damned teacup and sipping it like the gentleman he wasn't.

Hichigo's hands clenched into fists, but he made no response. Aizen gently placed the teacup back onto the little China plate and gazed at Hichigo with an unreadable look.

"Please, sit," he invited. "Make yourself comfortable."

Hichigo didn't move, his body so tensed up he felt like a living statue, unable to move or think properly.

"Sit," Aizen invited once again – this time it was no doubt a command.

It took a moment for Hichigo to find the feeling back in his body. He stiffly made his way back to his chair he had been sitting in during the meeting and sat.

"I must apologize for inviting Tsukishima-san—" Hichigo visibly tensed at the mention of the name – Aizen had no doubt done it purposely. "—without your consent. But it was imperative to have a representative come. I know you have a history between you two."

"Do ya have a purpose of having me stay?" Hichigo bit out, no longer willing to endure this if Aizen only wanted to play with him.

The boss smiled. "Of course, Hichigo-kun. I simply wanted to apologize."

"And ya did," Hichigo pointed out impatiently, ready to stand and leave.

"I did," Aizen agreed. "But I hope you are not discontent with my decision – after all, I am only concerned for your well-being."

His strained patience finally snapped, and he stood, shaking with suppressed rage. "Fuck the shit, Aizen. I ain't playing yer game today. If yer done, then I'm leaving."

Unperturbed by his display of anger, Aizen leaned back in his chair in a relaxed manner. "Of course, Hichigo-kun. By all means, you are allowed to go if you please."

Snarling, Hichigo turned and stomped to the door, swinging it open and childishly allowing it to slam against the wall with a loud bang. He could feel Aizen's penetrating eyes on his back as he left, but he didn't care at the moment – he only wanted to get out.

After regaining Zangetsu back in his possession, he left Las Noches. The air of Hueco Mundo was foul but it served to cool his blood down. He had nowhere to go to cool off, though. He couldn't stand the pitying look from Starrk, so the dumpster was his next choice.

By the time he reached it, the sun had sunk far in the distance, turning the sky into a pinkish red hue. As he approached, he spotted several shadowed figures loitering near the corner where the dumpster was located. Recognizing them as Soul Reapers, Hichigo slowed his progress, debating on whether to kick them out or find another place. Running away irritated him, so he continued forward until one of them noticed him.

"Look, a Hollow," the one who had spotted him informed his companions, recognizing his white hoodie.

Upon seeing him approaching, the others puffed up arrogantly.

"Stay outa our territory, Hollow," one called out. Hichigo snorted. This wasn't anywhere near their territory.

"If ya don't wanna be hurt, I suggest ya leave," another added. "But that ain't gonna happen 'cause ya won't be goin' anywhere soon."

There were six of them, all looking like gangster-wannabes with tattoos and mohawks or shaved heads. None of these guys were strong – it was easy to see that they were the type who beat up on the weak because they thought they were so great – especially if they were in groups. Alone, they would have run the moment he appeared.

They continued to jeer as he came steadily came closer, the streetlamp flickering on as the sky darkened and lighting up his features beneath his hood. One paused mid-taunt when he appeared to recognize him.

"Hey," he tried to say, but his companions ignored him. He tugged on one of their sleeves urgently, nearly reprimanded before he burst out, "That's Shirosaki from the Hollows –the Cero Espada!"

The jeering came to an abrupt halt. There was a moment of silence. Hichigo could almost taste the fear emanating from them. There was an ugly satisfaction in that fact – he would have enjoyed it more if he had been in a better mood.

"What? Scared now?"

They jumped at the sound of his voice, glancing at each other nervously. One daring one – or probably stupid – decided to speak up.

"There's only one of you and six of us," he stated in spite of the fearful look in his eyes.

The other idiots hesitantly agreed, and soon enough they felt brave enough to take a couple shuffling steps towards him.

Hichigo smirked humorlessly. If they wanted to fight, then who was he to deny them that right? Even if this one would bore him to tears. But it would be a good release for his pent up emotions.

"Come on," he stated, cracking his knuckles and like the knuckle-heads they were, they all rushed him in an uncoordinated wave, trying to punch and kick without success and doing more damage to themselves than to him. He almost felt sorry when he smashed his fist into one of these fool's face, effectively knocking him out along with a couple teeth. Almost. But not really.

He finished quickly enough, leaving a couple knocked out and the others groaning on the ground. Observing his handiwork, Hichigo realized he couldn't stay here with these idiots around. Damn it. Scowling, he turned away. Looks like he'd have to find somewhere else to stay for the night.

It was nearly eleven o'clock when Rukia heard the knock at her door. She frowned from where she sat at her desk doing her homework. Who would visit at this time of night? Curious but wary, she slipped on her slippers and made her way to the door.

Peering through the peephole, she glimpsed someone who she never thought would come back. Without really thinking, she unlocked the door and pulled it open.

"Shirosaki—"

Before she could even ask why he was here, he simply strode past her. Shocked, she turned and watched him kick off his shoes and walk into the living room like he owned it, tossing his sports bag next to the couch. Rukia gaped at him for a couple seconds before she closed the door and hurried into the living room as well.

"What are you doing?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips and looking at him disapprovingly.

"I'm staying over," he told her, leaving no room for discussion as he sat on the couch and riffled through his bag. "Just pretend I'm not here."

Rukia stared at him. "You can't do that."

He paused and gazed at her steadily, almost challengingly. "Are ya gonna kick me out?"

It wasn't puppy eyes he used this time, but it was much worse – her morals wouldn't let her kick him out – especially after knowing that he slept next to a dumpster. She wasn't sure if he even had a home to go to or not. Heaving an inward sigh, Rukia figured it couldn't hurt, especially since she'd allowed him to stay over once before.

She nodded curtly. "Very well. I'll get you a pillow and blanket."

Without even a 'thanks', he returned to riffling through his sports bag. She shrugged it off and returned to her room to grab the pillow and blanket he had used before. As an afterthought, she also grabbed the first aid kit. From his appearance, he hadn't bothered to treat his injuries from this afternoon's fight.

Once she returned to the living room, she found him gone. Hearing movements in the bathroom, she guessed he was bathing. She almost rolled her eyes. He'd only been here once, but he was behaving as if it were his apartment. And she couldn't really do anything about it since she couldn't deny him something as simple as a shower.

Placing the pillow and blanket on the couch, she headed to the kitchen. Judging from what she knew so far, he probably hadn't eaten dinner, either. Since she'd already eaten earlier, she decided to warm up the leftover chicken.

By the time he was finished with his shower, she had set the table with the new dishware she'd purchased not too long ago. He paused by the kitchen doorframe, a scowl pulling at his features.

"Didn't I tell ya to pretend I'm not here?" he demanded.

"That's impossible," she said mildly. "Please put the dishes in the sink after you're done. I left the first aid kit on the coffee table. I'll be going to finish up my homework."

He gaped at her business-like tone and watched as she walked past him and into her room, looking a little dumbfounded. Rukia ignored it. She had more important things to do at the moment, like finish up her essay and do a little more studying before she went to bed. He'd shown he could treat his injuries without her help, so she wasn't too concerned over it.

It was near midnight when she decided to turn in for the night. Rukia stretched her arms above her head and stood. First, she had to go to the bathroom. Recalling that she had an unexpected visitor, she quietly opened the door and peered out. The lights were out, and she could just make out a large lump on the couch. Trying to be as quiet as possible, she made her way to the bathroom and relieved herself before heading back.

Halfway across the living room, Rukia paused mid-tip toe when she heard an odd sound from the couch. She was about to ignore it when it occurred again. Curiosity got the best of her, and she silently crept over to the couch, peering down at it. It was easy to make out his pale features in the dark room with a little light from her bedroom. Noting his scrunched features and the sheen of sweat on his brow, Rukia surmised he was having a nightmare. He made the odd sound again, like a mix between a groan and a whimper. It was strange hearing that from him, so she leaned in closer, intending to wake him from his nightmare, but he mumbled something before she could do so.

"…orry…so…rry…"

What did he say? 'Sorry'? Rukia gazed at him, confused. Was he apologizing? What for? Suddenly he tensed and let out a low cry, a fist clenching the blanket as he battled his nightmare. Seeing the rapid movement of his eyes beneath his lids, Rukia grabbed his shoulder and shook him.

"Shirosaki, Shirosaki, wake up – it's only a nightmare," she said lowly but urgently.

He didn't respond at first, but suddenly her wrist was encased in a tight grip, and his eyes shot open wide, the look in his eerily luminescent gold eyes wild. Sweat beaded at his brow, and his chest heaved rapidly. Confusion showed in his face for a split second before he abruptly released her wrist from its bruising grip and sat up, nearly knocking both their heads together.

There was a long silence as he slowly calmed his breathing. Once she was certain he was calmer, she decided to speak.

"Are you alright, Shirosaki?" she asked.

It seemed to take him a moment to realize she was speaking to him. He sent her a scowl.

"It's none of yer business," he growled.

Noticing the defensive look in his eyes, she decided it was best not to question him further. Waking him up had been her main goal, not inquiring about his nightmare – though she admittedly was curious.

"Alright. I'll be going to bed, then," she told him calmly as she stood. "If you need anything, please do not hesitate to let me know."

He merely snorted and began to turn away, but not before she realized he hadn't used the first aid kit. It sat untouched on the coffee table where she'd left it an hour ago. Instead of returning to her room as she had intended, she picked up the first aid kit and opened it, immediately catching his attention.

"What are ya doing?" he asked.

"Treating you," she replied absently as she found the ointment she'd used before.

"I don't need—" he began, but she smoothly intercepted him.

"You're in my home, so my rules override anything you say," she informed him. "Now, are there any other wounds besides the ones on your face?"

Silence met her question, and she turned to find him staring at her as if she had just told him she was an alien.

"Shirosaki?"

He snapped out of whatever trance he had been in and scowled stubbornly. "I don't need it."

Rukia almost sighed aloud. Why was he so reluctant to receive help?

"Take off your shirt," she commanded, deciding to take matters into her own hands.

"I don't – what?" He stared at her in astonishment.

"Take off your shirt," she repeated slowly.

He didn't move.

"Shirosaki, we can argue about this all night if you wish, but I would prefer to get this done quickly," she told him firmly, laying a hard look on him.

He seemed to debate with himself for a minute before he held out his hand. "I'll do it myself."

Resisting the urge to smile triumphantly lest it change his mind, Rukia simply handed him the jar of ointment. He began to remove his shirt, but paused upon seeing her watching.

"Are ya gonna watch me strip?" he questioned.

"Yes," she deadpanned. "Because you probably won't use it if I'm not here."

He snorted and pulled his shirt over his head. She stared at the new set of bruises decorating his ribs and side.

"Does it hurt?" she asked before she could stop herself. Mentally, she smacked herself. Of course it probably hurt.

"No."

Nevermind. She forgot he was basically immune to pain. Or he could just be putting up a front. But seeing that he didn't even wince as he applied the ointment, perhaps he really didn't feel pain like normal people.

Once he finished with the ointment, she silently handed him the gauze and placed the ointment back in the first aid kit. Like before, he wrapped the gauze around his wounds without trouble.

"Do you get hurt often?" she asked.

He paused and glanced at her, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Why do ya wanna know?"

She shrugged. "I'm curious."

"Curious?" he echoed. "About what?"

"You," she told him honestly. After coming into contact with him so many times, it was only natural. She might as well know more about him if he decided to have any more unexpected overnight visits.

He fell silent, probably not expecting that. After a minute, he spoke.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are ya curious about me?"

"Because I am," she replied.

He scowled harder. "That ain't no answer."

"Because we're acquaintances. It's only natural to get to know each other and become friends."

Shirosaki stared at her, and Rukia realized her slip. She stayed silent, waiting for his reaction.

"Friends…?" he repeated slowly.

Unsure of the way he spoke it, she nodded.

"That's stupid," he scoffed.

Rukia scowled this time, feeling offended. "It is not. Friends are important. Don't you have friends?"

"No. I don't need any," he told her offhandedly.

"What about…what was his name? Jaegerjaquez? Aren't you always with him?"

"Grimmjow?" he said in disbelief. "Me? Friends with him?"

Rukia guessed that was a 'no'. "So you don't have any? Isn't that lonely?"

"I'm not lonely," he denied. "I ain't no pussy."

"You don't have to be a pussy to be lonely," Rukia informed him. "In fact, I think you need friends. Why don't I be your first friend?"

This time he stared at her as if she had just told him the world was going to end in the next three seconds. Of course, Rukia realized her decision may have been too rash, but the more she thought about it, the more she felt like it wouldn't be too bad. Maybe. Besides, he had never done anything she needed to be worried about. Kind of. And plus, he had showed her he could even be considerate despite his stubborn personality. Sort of.

"I don't need friends," he finally said.

"Yes, you do," Rukia said firmly. "Friends are there to stand with you and support you. They are there for you when you need them."

"No," he said flatly.

Ignoring his negative answer, Rukia nodded to herself. "Okay, sounds good. Shall we turn in for the night?"

"I said—" he started to protest.

"Oh, and I've forgotten until now, but thank you," she added sincerely.

He stopped and looked confused. "What?"

"For saving me that day and walking me home. I am very grateful." Without allowing him time to answer, she bid him goodnight and went to her room for a good night's rest, feeling quite satisfied with herself.

Hichigo couldn't sleep well that night. For once, it wasn't because of nightmares or the thoughts that hounded him day and night – no, it was because of that little slip of a girl. She confused him and surprised him at every turn. He couldn't figure her out – she definitely wasn't like any other girls he'd known.

Turning to his side on the lumpy little couch, he surprisingly found himself much calmer than he thought he would be after that little fiasco with Tsukishima. Was it because of that little doll? He wasn't sure, and he wasn't too sure about being friends with her.

Deciding that it wasn't important – because she really couldn't have meant it anyway – he finally slept, and for once, he slept an entire night without nightmares clawing in the corners of his mind.


End file.
